Kidnapped!
by Nitroid
Summary: On a whimsical bet, Aizen orders his Espada to forcibly kidnap Ichigo and drug him to become overly submissive and wanton. Grimmjow however, is convinced that he has to help Ichigo. Mature, GrimmIchi.
1. The Bet

**So I haven't been in the mood for writing for a long while, but this idea came to me after I was reading DOGS and I had to write it down or I'd forget all about it. I like the Heine-Badou pairing. Very much. :D **

_You have to do it running but you do everything that they ask you to,_

_Surprise, surprised they wouldn't wanna watch,_

_Another uninnocent, elegant fall into the unmagnificent lives of adults._

**Was listening to this song throughout the whole typing of this story because I was too engrossed to bother shuffling my playlist so ... it's gonna be stuck in my head for a very, very long while. D:**_  
_

**Summary:** Aizen forms a bet with Gin to figure out which Espada has the highest amount of self control. Upon orders, the Espada forcibly kidnap Ichigo and drug him to become overly submissive as well as sex-deprived. Slut!Ichigo and Possessive!Grimmjow.

._.

"You know, Gin," Aizen murmured in a sultry voice against Gin's ear.

The smaller man moaned as he arched his back into Aizen.

"I've been thinking."

Gently pressing Gin's tip, Aizen used his other hand to stretch Gin's hole wider with his fingers, producing several short, breathless gasps from his subordinate.

"Ask me what about." Aizen grinned, sliding down Gin's body until he situated himself in the space between Gin's legs.

When Gin stared at him with pleading, lust filled eyes, Aizen teased him by breathing out gently over his cock.

"Aizen, please…!" Gin pleaded, tugging unsuccessfully at the silken ropes that bound his wrists.

Aizen grinned at him, his lips ghosting over the tip of Gin's quivering cock. Already, drops of precome were trickling down to his wet, pink hole.

Gin swallowed and whimpered. "F-Fine. What were you thinking?"

Rewarding Gin with a languorous lick up his shaft, Aizen grinned maliciously and stopped.

"I want to find out which of my Espada have the highest amount of tolerance." Gin rolled his eyes at him and bucked his hips. "Self control, restraint."

Aizen sucked gently at Gin's tip, delighting in the moans he lucratively generated from the younger man. He stopped once more, much to Gin's chagrin.

"And discipline." He blew gently over Gin again, enjoying the tortured look on his face immensely. "Don't you?"

"Please, not now." Gin whimpered, his eyelashes fluttering. "You're so cruel, Aizen - - Ah!"

Aizen's fingers were digging into him now, deeper and deeper in search of his prostrate. "But now's the only time I can get you to agree on a bet with me."

Gin arched his back again. "Ah! Ah! Oh yes, there!"

Aizen continued for a few seconds, then stopped mercilessly. "So you agree with me, Gin? I bet that Grimmjow has the lowest level of tolerance and the highest self restraint."

"Nooo, don't stop." Gin panted, his cheeks flushed. Lifting his legs, he tried to pull Aizen closer but to no avail.

"How about you?" Aizen ignored his plea. He looked unsympathetic, but inside he was definitely doing his best to hold back.

Gin knew this, so he lowered one leg and rubbed his foot against the tent in Aizen's robes. "I hate you."

Aizen shut his eyes and successfully suppressed a moan of pleasure. "I love you. Answer me, Gin."

His hand pumped up and down Gin's shaft, and it was the younger man's turn to moan. "Nnnnn. N-not fair, you always p-play dirty."

Aizen slowed to a stop, relishing the anguished look Gin wore. "Quickly, before I leave you like this."

"You wouldn't dare." Gin murmured, but gave in anyway. "I'm betting on Ulquiorra."

"If either of us loses," Aizen hummed around Gin's cock. "One of us will be the other's slave for seven days."

Gin gripped Aizen's thick curls none too gently. "A week? That's … ah! … So … oh! Oh!"

Aizen swallowed his come before speaking. "So what, Gin?"

"…Long." Gin replied breathlessly, allowing his body to relax on the sheets.

"I have to get an object of desire that will tempt them. But what?"

Satiated, Gin shrugged one shoulder. "That Kurosaki kid. They all wanna kill him, but who's to say they don't wanna fuck him either?"

Aizen stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of his robes. His erection wasn't noticeable and Gin wondered if he'd come in his pants. It wasn't until Aizen walked out of the bedroom door did Gin realize the position he was in.

"Hey! Untie me!"

._.

Truth be told, he wasn't expecting this. It had just happened suddenly, without warning. He'd been standing in mid-air, scanning the area for the epic blast of Hollow energy he'd felt earlier while still in bed. The night air was frigid, even under the warm layers of his Shinigami attire. Ichigo briefly remembered that it had rained heavily earlier, during the early hours of the evening. But that wasn't important.

Four Espada, all decked out in their pristine white and black uniforms, swords strapped to their sides. They surrounded him, right above the old, dilapidated building that had once been a towering, swanky office block. He was probably about a twenty minute walk – for the average human – away from home. That meant his family was still safe; for now. Ichigo felt the niggling sensation of doubt slowly clouding his mind.

He dimly recalled the time he'd left from his bedroom window; his digital clock face had read 4:17 am. No telling how long this battle would take. Could he defeat them all and still be in time for a little nap before school started? Mentally kicking himself for worrying about school at such an untimely moment, he forced himself to snap back to attention. Any minute now, the Espada could launch an attack and catch him unguarded.

Thoughtfully, Ichigo held Zangetsu out in front of him in such a way that allowed him to watch the movements of the enemy behind him. So far, they were merely standing around him in a lazy circle. Out of caution, Ichigo scrutinized each Espada intently, searching for a familiar face to figure out just who he could go easier on and who to be wary of.

Hands in his pockets, Grimmjow Jeagerjacques smirked at him, the familiar leer gnawing at Ichigo's drawer of irritation. Several feet away from him stood Coyote Stark, slowly nodding off to sleep with his arms crossed. Ichigo's eyes narrowed just a fraction as he analyzed his new enemy. He'd never clashed swords with Stark before, but he had definitely heard of his rank in the list of Espada. Just because Stark looked sleepy all the time didn't mean he wasn't dangerous when fully awake. Ichigo felt a small bead of perspiration slide down his neck to the neckline of his Shinigami garments.

Next to the dozing Stark stood Ulquiorra Schiffer, his face void of expression as he met Ichigo's gaze with a cool stare. Ulquiorra was a damn good fighter despite his stony façade, and Ichigo felt more beads of sweat trickle down his back before his robes absorbed them. A slightly hysteric chuckle caught Ichigo's attention, and he turned a fraction to lock gazes with a pink haired Espada. Said Espada pushed his white glasses up his nose elegantly with a gloved index finger before pointing at Ichigo.

"So you're the Shinigami substitute," he said in a vaguely maniacal tone. "You're just a teenage boy."

Ignoring his superior speculation, Ichigo racked his brains, trying to figure out who the hell he was. His confusion must have shown on his face, because the Espada threw back his head and laughed maniacally, making no attempt to disguise the fact that he was somewhat disturbing.

"I bet you don't know who I am, _boy_." He said tauntingly as his sinisterly eerie chuckles died down.

His emphasis on the last word spiked a tiny bit of irritation in Ichigo, but he refused to rise to the bait. Acting rashly now would only get him into more trouble than he already was.

"No, I don't." Ichigo replied, brave in the face of danger. "And I don't give a damn, either way."

"Oh, that's cold." The Espada giggled, covering his mouth delicately with his gloved hand. "I wonder what it would be like to have you strapped to my laboratory table, panting and allowing me to toy with your exposed body."

Ichigo's honey colored eyes widened in a mixture of shock and disgust as a light blush covered his cheeks. Being mad was one thing, but openly perverted and disturbing as well was starting to get to him. He was wondering whether to defeat that specific Espada first before the rest when Ulquiorra cleared his throat.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, we have been ordered to take you hostage back to Hueco Mundo, Las Noches. We do not expect you to come without a fight. However, refusal to follow us will only result in your punishment." Stony faced, Ulquiorra barely moved from his spot while delivering his little speech.

Ichigo's scowl deepened; all traces of his previous blush gone. "Yeah? Says who?"

"These are Sosuke Aizen's orders."

To his left, Grimmjow snorted brusquely. "And we're going with his shit, why?"

"You know perfectly well why, Grimmjow." Ulquiorra replied callously without taking his eyes off Ichigo.

Running a hand through his cyan hair, Grimmjow groaned audibly. "So what happens if we don't?"

Ulquiorra glanced at him before continuing his staring match with Ichigo. "Failure to participate in this mission will only result in your retribution."

The blue haired Espada swore, glowering at Ulquiorra.

"Do shut up, Grimmjow." The pink haired Espada flapped a white gloved hand at him. "Listen to Ulqui when he talks."

"Got a death wish, Szayel?" Grimmjow snarled, glaring daggers at him. "You don't tell me what to do."

That did it. A loud, foul mouthed squabble occurred right there and then between Szayel and Grimmjow. They almost resembled a cat and a dog. Almost. Despite his dire situation, Ichigo allowed himself a small, amused smile.

Stark yawned and stretched, showing the first signs of life since he'd appeared before Ichigo. He blinked and looked around blearily before nodding politely at the teenager.

"Oh, you're all still here." He rubbed his neck apologetically. "I was a little worried you might have kidnapped him and left without me."

"Keep sleeping and we really will leave you here." Grimmjow turned his interest to Stark. "I can't believe you can even sleep standing."

Shrugging, Stark stuck his hands into his pockets. "Well, I'm a pretty versatile guy. I guess I can adapt better than you can."

Easily incensed, Grimmjow sputtered indignantly. Szayel laughed and held his arms out to Stark.

"I'd embrace you, Stark, but you'd probably shoot me. So let's settle for one several feet away." He grinned widely.

Stark shrugged again and held out his arms indifferently. "I don't like hugging people."

"You hug Lilinette." Grimmjow muttered half-accusingly. "Is there something going on between you guys or what?"

"That's gross. No, of course not." Stark shuddered slightly and smirked at Grimmjow. "She's like a little sister, that's all."

"Yeah, with advantages." Grimmjow shot him a lecherous grin. "Don't you dare deny it."

Szayel huffed and folded his arms gracefully across his chest. "Lord, that's borderline pedophilic, Stark. Who would've guessed?"

Ichigo inched away, desperately trying to look for a way out. This entire thing was a mess, obviously. He wasn't in the mood for dealing with their antics. Right now, what he needed most was sleep. And the Chemistry notes from Thursday's experiment. Maybe he could borrow them from Ishida.

He lowered Zangetsu and ran a hand over his eyes tiredly. His arms ached from holding his zanpakutou in the same stance for so long. Seeing as none of the Espada were paying any attention to him, Ichigo backed away carelessly with a soft sigh.

His sigh turned into a gasp of shock as he bumped into a hard chest. A hand grabbed Zangetsu's hilt and swiftly yanked it out of his hand.

"Ah! Hey!" Ichigo's startled yelp caused the other three Espada to whirl around and focus on him.

_Dammit. _Ichigo cursed inwardly. He'd forgotten all about Ulquiorra. _How could I be that sloppy?_

_Well, we're up shit creek now, King._ Shirosaki's voice echoed languidly inside his head.

His tone of voice undeniably epitomized what Ichigo was feeling now. He felt tired and sleep deprived, but waving the white flag was definitely not an option with four highly ranked Arrancar around.

"How careless of you, Shinigami." Ulquiorra said quietly, single handedly keeping Ichigo's hands in a tight hold, with Zangetsu in the other.

"Give it back." Ichigo hissed as the grip on his wrists tightened to the strength of iron. He was too worn-out to bother with mature arguments. "You're hurting me."

"Not to the extent that you will suffer death." Ulquiorra leaned in and trained his emerald green eyes on honey brown ones. "You have the decision of following us without a fight, or else."

Ichigo swallowed as Ulquiorra wordlessly handed Zangetsu to Stark for safekeeping. "Or else what?"

There was hot breath on his ear, and a creepy whisper that sent chilly tingles down his spine. "Or else you get to experience my new concoction, boy."

A white gloved hand dangled a sinister looking syringe filled with a clear red liquid before his eyes. Ichigo turned his face away, but not before he spat in Ulquiorra's face.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Grimmjow muttered from the side, his hands still in his pockets. He looked fidgety and uncomfortable, which was exactly what Ichigo should have been feeling in place of his exhaustion.

Ulquiorra used his sleeve to wipe away Ichigo's saliva. "You have my permission, Szayel."

A gleeful chuckle was produced from the pink haired Espada as he trailed his fingers down Ichigo's neck. "I thought you'd never ask."

"W-What the hell - ?" Ichigo stiffened as a thin needle promptly pierced his skin right at the hollow between his neck and shoulder. "Uhnnn."

The effect was instantaneous. Ichigo felt his muscles relax immediately, causing him to lose his balance and drop to his knees, where he swayed precariously before keeling over to his side. He could barely keep his eyes open.

_Get a grip on yourself, Ichigo! _He scolded himself in a stress-induced panic. _Gotta … get … Zangetsu …_

He could still hear voices. That meant he was still fairly conscious. Just what the hell did Szayel stick into him?

"What the hell! Why do I have to carry him?" That gruff voice was unmistakably Grimmjow's.

"I don't like getting my hands dirty. Besides, you barely did anything anyway." Szayel answered superciliously.

Stark sighed. "He's right. Let's just get going before someone else comes and tries to intervene."

"Bastards." Hands roughly pulled Ichigo upwards. He was thrown over someone's shoulder – presumably Grimmjow's. Ichigo mustered his strength to protest, but what came out was a soft moan.

"Jeez, he's still awake. Szayel, how much did you give him?" Grimmjow muttered from somewhere around Ichigo's ass.

"The entire syringe, which is more than enough. The new drug will make him extremely compliant later on, so don't worry about him kicking up a fuss." Szayel's smooth voice spiked worry through Ichigo. "I'll have to warn you, though. He'll be practically begging to be touched after that."

"You're such a pervert." Grimmjow heaved a sigh and flipped Ichigo back down, where he slid a strong arm under his knees and supported his back. "He's just a kid."

"What, growing soft in your old age already?" Stark teased from somewhere to the right.

Grimmjow replied with a disgruntled scoff.

Ichigo 's entire body felt hot. It was bad enough that he could barely move, and the drug infused into his bloodstream was making him flushed and sweaty. His breath came in pants, as if he'd just finished running a marathon. He felt glad he was being carried. He had an exceedingly strong urge to be held.

"Nnnnn." He turned to the source of warmth carrying him and buried his face into Grimmjow's chest.

"Hang in there, kid." Grimmjow whispered, his breath tickling Ichigo's ear.

Ichigo murmured incoherently and lightly clutched at Grimmjow's shirt. They stayed that way until exhaustion dragged him into a dreamless sleep.

._.

He awoke feeling much better and refreshed. This was a surprise, considering all he'd been through the night before. Ichigo blinked and opened his eyes as far as they would go. There was light streaming through from somewhere. He frowned and raised a hand to shield his eyes. Said hand was stuck in the blankets pooled around his body. For a fleeting moment, Ichigo panicked, recalling what that intimidating Espada had suggested before; Szayel, was it? Thankfully, he was in a bed and not lying down trapped on a cold steel table with needles hovering above him.

The mattress was soft. Everything was white, from the pillow cases to the sheets to the blankets. Ichigo looked up and took in the view of the room around him. It was practically empty, save for the bed and a white wooden chair, plus the three walls. Sunlight was spilling in from a tall, hemispherical hole in the adjoining wall with grey stone pillars. Ichigo could only see the glisten of light brown sand beyond the window.

He got out of bed and stretched. He was mildly surprised to find that he was naked. It wasn't beneath Aizen to strip his hostages of their own belongings before providing them with his own version of clothes. Curiously, Ichigo reached out and placed a hand on one of the stone pillars that filled the gap in the wide hole. It was warm, probably from the heat of the sun shining outside.

He walked over to the bed and stripped the blankets off of it. Wrapping them around his body like a towel, Ichigo walked over to the walls and wondered if there was a way out. The gaps between the pillars were too small for his body to fit through. He wandered aimlessly around the barren room, trying to gather his thoughts. Where was the entrance? If they had gotten him in somehow, there had to be a way out. He bit his lower lip and stared at the white walls.

It wasn't until he reached out and placed a hand on one of the walls did a gaping hole appear. Well, it more or less materialized in front of him. He stared at it in astonishment before poking his head out to take a peek. There was a long row of corridors to his left and a dead end to his right. Sunlight leaked in through the gaps in the pillars down the passageway. Delighted at gaining his freedom, Ichigo stepped out and glanced around warily in case someone tried to jump him. Seeing no one, he turned to the left and shuffled down the stoned route. He peeked past the nearest pillar and got an eyeful of the vast sandy dunes all around. Why Aizen chose to live in a bleak desert of all things was really a marvel.

Barefoot, he welcomed the warmth emanating from the large shapeless stones built to form a path in the sand. It wasn't until a small dark brown scorpion skittered across his foot and delved deep into the sand did Ichigo feel alarmed. So Hueco Mundo wasn't negated of the usual desert life. Strange, considering the amount of Hollows running amok all over the place. Keeping his eyes peeled for any more dangerous desert creatures, Ichigo hopped over the stones, which were gradually growing warmer and less comforting beneath his feet.

A harsh laugh made him jump in shock. He turned, expecting to face a random Hollow in search of a soul to eat. Instead he locked gazes with Nnoitra Jiruga, an Espada he had previously fought on his last trip to Las Noches. Ichigo felt his heartbeat race. This was much worse than he'd expected. Facing a random Hollow without the aid of Zangetsu seemed like a better option than Nnoitra. Here was another violent maniac out to stick something into him.

"You know how funny you look, playin' hop-scotch over those stones?" Nnoitra strolled over, leering openly.

"That wasn't what I was doing." Ichigo scowled, stepping onto the long folds of the blankets to avoid getting the soles of his feet scorched. The sun was higher in the sky now, and the stones were positively smoldering.

He winced in pain as one of his toes touched a stone. Nnoitra sneered.

"Poor baby. All alone out here without anyone to defend you."

Ichigo shut his eyes and tried to calm himself. _Don't take the bait. He's just trying to piss you off, start a fight and kill you. _

"Scared?" Nnoitra's jeering voice sounded closer, and Ichigo opened his eyes hurriedly. It wouldn't do to let the Espada get too close. "I would be, if I were you. No sword, nothin' to fight back with."

One hand cupped Ichigo's cheek, fingers stroking his skin. Ichigo leaned into the touch, feeling the urge to be held spike up once more. He lowered his gaze meekly. Nnoitra grinned and chuckled again.

"So they really did drug you."

Ichigo's eyes flew open and he swallowed before stammering. "W-what with?"

_Shit, I can't even control my voice now._

Nnoitra's face was close to his, his menacing eyes glittering with amusement. "Who knows? All I heard from Szayel was that it'd make you all tame and docile."

Fighting the urge to whimper for Nnoitra's hands over his body, Ichigo blushed. "I … I … What do you want from me?"

Nnoitra raised an eyebrow with a wicked grin. "Shouldn't it be more along the lines of what _you_ want from me?"

_I can't believe myself._ Ichigo felt his blush deepen as he felt his body grow hot again. _Just what the hell is happening to me? Was that injection an aphrodisiac? _

He was leaning into Nnoitra now, allowing the Espada's hands to roam freely over his body. Long fingers brushed his nipple and Ichigo's breath caught in his throat. Nnoitra pressed his lips to Ichigo's, covering what little space was left between them by pulling the smaller male against him. Their tongues battled for dominance, slick with saliva, their growing erections rubbing against each other. Ichigo moaned, breaking the kiss and feebly tried to push him away.

"So … so hot." The orange haired teen grasped at Nnoitra's Espada uniform desperately.

Lifting Ichigo up over his shoulder, Nnoitra walked back to the shaded part of the corridor, away from prying eyes and the heat of the sun. He grinned down at the blushing boy, noting the look of relief on his face. Ichigo was cute, so very cute. The

"Better?" he trailed a finger down Ichigo's cheek, smirking when the boy wrapped his arms around his neck.

Ichigo exhaled a soft sigh. "Yes. Thank you."

Nnoitra acknowledged his thanks by locking lips with him, one hand supporting Ichigo against him and the wall, the other sliding through the opening in the blankets for his hardening erection. One grip around his cock elicited a surprised gasp from the boy, and then the gasp turned into a long moan as Nnoitra stroked his tip with his thumb. Ichigo automatically wrapped his legs around Nnoitra's waist as the taller male gripped his hips and pushed him up against the wall, grinding their erections together.

His mind was spinning in a whirl of confusion, heat and incredulity. His skin was hot to the touch and he was sweating, but there was a pool of heat somewhere below his stomach and an unsatisfied itch he urgently needed to suppress. When Nnoitra's fingers traveled from his cock to his balls, Ichigo rolled his hips eagerly. Grinning, Nnoitra slid a slick finger into his hole, scissoring continually before adding a second finger, then a third.

Ichigo couldn't hold back his moans as waves of pleasure spiked through him. His breath was coming in short gasps as he panted into Nnoitra's neck, fingers gripping the fabric of his Espada uniform.

Hidden from somewhere above, leaning out the balcony with a set of stone white binoculars against his eyes, Aizen chuckled. "Looks like Nnoitra's out of the game."

"Let me see." Gin snatched the lens from him. "Ooh. Kurosaki has very long legs."

"So does Nnoitra." Aizen waved a hand airily. "I personally like Grimmjow's legs."

"You like anythin' with a hole on two legs…" Grinning, Gin handed back the binoculars to Aizen. "So all we gotta do is keep feeding Kurosaki those drugs?"

Aizen folded his arms over his chest. "Yes. And then we release him among the other Espada."

"What, all at once?" Gin chuckled. "That would be rape."

"I'll show you rape." Aizen promptly picked him up and carried him into the room, throwing him onto the bed. "I wasn't satisfied the last time."

Back down below, Nnoitra stood stock still inside Ichigo, who was equally stunned as a screaming moan that sounded very much like 'AHHAIZENNNNHNN!' reached their ears.

"What the hell?" Ichigo blinked, fingers in Nnoitra's tousled black hair.

"Yeah, what the hell," Nnoitra, who knew everything, gave a particularly rough thrust.

Ichigo's screaming moan matched that of Gin's.

* * *

**Whoa. **

**Eleven fracking pages. **

**I had to stop before this turned into a very long oneshot. Plus I was kinda in the middle of sketching Ichigo having a hot make out fest with each Espada…well, only the sexy ones of course. **

**Why Nnoitra? Cause I kinda wanted him out of the way. And he is…sort of hot. Without the weird lampshade behind his head. **

**Kisses for reviewers! **


	2. Realization

**Thank you so much for the amazing reviews! You guys made my day. :D Virtual kisses for all!**

**On a side note, I was re-reading the first chapter last night and I realized the pace was moving way too fast lol. Hope this one is slow enough! :) **

._.

"You have to do it." Halibel tossed the bundle of clothes in Grimmjow's direction.

Out of pure reflex, Grimmjow caught it with both hands. "What? Why me?"

"Someone has to do it," Halibel replied, folding her arms across her large chest. "And it's definitely not going to be me."

Throwing the clothes to the stone floor, Grimmjow flipped his finger at her and glared. "Hell if it's gonna be me, either."

Stark, leaning against a stone pillar, opened his eyes and sighed. "Alright. Who had the clothes first?"

"Me." Ulquiorra replied stoically from his position beside Halibel. "Aizen ordered us to give them to Kurosaki."

Grimmjow made a face. "So he's buck naked right now? Christ."

"Which is why he needs the clothes, obviously," Halibel stared pointedly at Grimmjow. "So get to it, smartass."

"No way in hell, bitch!" Grimmjow snarled, his hackles rising. "You can't order me around. Just cause you're Terceira Espada doesn't mean you have power over me."

"I never implied that!" Halibel snapped back, losing her patience. "I don't care for the Kurosaki boy. You're the one obsessed about him."

Reduced to spluttering, Grimmjow felt his face turn red with anger. A vein was throbbing on his temple; he was _not_ obsessed with Kurosaki!

Disinclined for a pointless brawl to transpire, Ulquiorra spoke up. "Enough. Aizen's orders must be carried out, and an argument will not solve this."

"So why don't _you_ bring them to him?" Grimmjow fixed his angry stare on the Quarto Espada. "Since you actually enjoy being such a kiss-ass, go do it your damn self."

Stark heaved an exasperated sigh. "Please be quiet. I'd like to sleep."

"But you sleep all the time, there's not much difference anyway," Lilinette spoke up from behind Stark, where she was playing on the sand with Wonderweiss. "Right, Wonderweiss?"

Wonderweiss garbled nonsensically in agreement.

"Why don't we all go together?" Zommari suggested in his deep voice.

Since he rarely spoke, the other Espada needed several seconds to register that he actually had.

It was Halibel who broke the awed silence. "What, just to deliver some clothes to the Shinigami boy?" Her usually calm voice was dripping with contempt. "No, thank you."

Patting Wonderweiss on the head, Stark shrugged. "I'd do it, but only later. Right now the breeze is blowing in my direction."

Ulquiorra deadpanned. "And?"

"It indicates the perfect position to take a morning nap," Stark explained before shutting his eyes. Behind him, Lilinette dragged Wonderweiss into a clumsy kiss.

Szayel pushed his glasses delicately up his nose before walking away. "This is stupid. I'm going to conduct an experiment. Whoever's going to dress the boy; let me know whether the drug worked. I'll be in my laboratory."

"I'm coming with you." Halibel gave Grimmjow a piercing look before following suit.

Yammy laid a hand on Zommari's shoulder. "I found a sand lizard. Let's play with it."

They ambled off toward the back buildings, where they would probably spend the rest of the day in each other's company. It was amazing how well they got along, Grimmjow mused as he watched the two. They sort of had a lovey-dovey atmosphere emanating around them. He shuddered at the highly disconcerting reflection of both largely built Espada in bed.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and jumped in shock as he realized Ulquiorra was standing right in front of him.

"Whoa!" He jerked back, successfully bumping his head into the pillar behind him. "Shit, stop doing that! You don't have to come so close."

"I have been talking to you for the past three minutes." Ulquiorra replied patiently. Reaching out with a gloved hand, he massaged the back of Grimmjow's head gently. "Are you hurt? I am sorry."

"Will you quit being so formal?" Unsure of what to do, Grimmjow gave Ulquiorra's shoulders a light reassuring squeeze. "I'm fine. And you're getting kinda … close."

Disregarding his last statement, Ulquiorra pressed up against him, staring up at the taller Espada dolefully. "I cannot help it; Aizen made me this way, using the Hogyoku."

Rendered inarticulate, Grimmjow looked down into Ulquiorra's sad green eyes and gulped. Up close, the fourth Espada resembled a pleading puppy, especially with those wide, beseeching eyes. It was heartbreaking, really. Despite his rough and tough exterior, Grimmjow really couldn't stand seeing people being miserable.

"Well…" he laid a tentative hand on Ulquiorra's back. "Just … give me some space, okay? And I kinda like you this way. I mean, it took some getting used to, but …"

_Shit, what am I saying?_ Grimmjow ran a hand through his hair, feeling awkward and tongue-tied. _This is so embarrassing._

"Will you do this?" Ulquiorra asked, pushing the bundle of clothes against Grimmjow's chest. "For me?"

"N-Not for Aizen?" Grimmjow stammered as he tried to inch away, wondering what had gotten into the Quarto Espada. Usually he was so refined and quiet; you barely knew he was there.

Defying his customary stoic façade, Ulquiorra shook his head, standing on tiptoe and leaning his weight against Grimmjow. "For me."

"Yeah…" Partly because he was clueless about what else to say, and partly because this new Ulquiorra pretty much opposed the norm, Grimmjow took the offered bundle of clothing. "Sure, anything for you."

Amazing; he'd actually managed to keep control over his voice! Grimmjow cheered inwardly.

Ulquiorra nodded and brushed his fingers over Grimmjow's white bone Espada mask. "You are truly wonderful."

Grimmjow blushed a deep shade of red before stumbling off in the direction of Ichigo's reiatsu. Stifling the urge to chuckle, Ulquiorra hid a smirk behind a white gloved hand.

"You know," he said conversationally to Stark, whose eyes still remained closed. "Grimmjow isn't as bad as I thought he was."

"You're such a manipulative bastard," Stark observed, cracking open one eye. Apparently he had been feigning sleep. "Well, good job anyway. I always knew you had it in you."

"Shush," Ulquiorra flapped a hand at him, his once pleading eyes sharp and alert. "Where is Nnoitra?"

Stark shrugged before closing his eyes again. "Where do you think?"

._.

Nnoitra sneezed twice in quick succession into the fluffy white pillow, waking Ichigo in the process. They were back in Ichigo's room, swathed in blankets.

"Are you cold?" Ichigo asked softly, rubbing Nnoitra's back under the pristine white blanket. "I know it's hot out, but still …"

"M'fine," Nnoitra replied as Ichigo pressed a hand to his forehead. "I ain't sick or anythin'."

"Can you actually get sick?" Ichigo raised his eyebrows cynically. "I thought Arrancar were pretty much invincible."

Nnoitra propped himself up on his elbows, studying Ichigo attentively. "I dunno. I ain't ever gotten sick before. Being sick is for weenies. You sayin' I'm a weenie?"

"Well, you are a little pale." Ichigo murmured soothingly. "But I know you're really strong."

"Heck yeah," Nnoitra nodded and tilted his head. "Say. The drugs ain't worn off yet?"

Giving him a puzzled look, Ichigo simply blinked. "…What drugs?"

"So, memory loss was part of the after effect, huh," Nnoitra mulled over Szayel's ingenious inspiration. "That's kinda depressin'. I don't want you to forget."

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo pulled himself up into a sitting position. He winced and touched his back tentatively.

Nnoitra shot him a questioning look.

"…My ass hurts." Ichigo looked away, tugging his share of the blanket over his manhood. "A whole damn lot."

"Heh, bound to be." Nnoitra chuckled, reaching out to plant a kiss on Ichigo's forehead. "You just kept askin' for more, so I couldn't help but feel obligated."

Spluttering in a mixture of indignation and embarrassment, Ichigo felt a blush tint his cheeks. "L-Like hell I did!"

"Sure, Ichi," Nnoitra pulled him closer by his hips. "God. You're so freakin' cute. Why didn't I notice before?"

A light cough by the hole in the wall brought both males to attention. One hand in his pocket, leaning against the door stood Grimmjow, his face impassive.

"It's too early in the morning for this." Grimmjow's gaze flicked from Nnoitra to Ichigo. "Doncha think?"

"Whatever," Nnoitra flipped him off. "Fuck off, will ya?"

Grimmjow pointedly ignored him. "Clothes for you, Ichigo."

"T-Thanks," Ichigo blushed, not quite ready to meet Grimmjow's penetrating gaze. "Um … could you put them on the chair?"

As much as Ichigo wanted to take them from Grimmjow, he really couldn't handle getting out of bed, much less standing right then.

Nnoitra watched, leering as Grimmjow complied and left without another word. "Heh, that's rare. Usually he'd aim a kick at my head or somethin'."

Ichigo couldn't understand why, but his heart was racing and the blood was pounding in his ears. What had gotten into him? It was just Grimmjow, for heaven's sake. It wasn't like he'd walked in on them doing … naughty stuff. Naked as he was, they were covered by the blanket, anyway. So why did he feel so guilty out of the blue?

_Weird, King. It's raining again in here._

_Not now, Shiro. _Ichigo inhaled a deep breath, hoping to calm his nerves. He felt so confused. Here he was, stripped of his clothes and lying naked on a bed in Hueco Mundo, next to Nnoitra of all people. He'd been drugged, and it was slowly wearing off, but why didn't he feel the panic rising again in his chest? He felt lightheaded, like he was floating on white clouds while the rest of the world rolled in its usual pace below. Just last night, he'd figured he could take down four Espada on his own without asking for help. Did the others know he'd been captured? Ichigo felt a spike of worry invade his senses, but it was quickly drowned by a warm, fuzzy sensation that flowed through his veins, spreading out to his entire body. It felt strange, but not unwelcome.

_What are you doing, King? You're not runnin' away, when you should be._ Even his Hollow's voice sounded different, distant and far away.

_I don't know. I can't bring myself to do anything. It must be those drugs…_

"I'm gonna go." Nnoitra sat up straighter, yawning.

Ichigo did a double take as he saw the number five tattooed on Nnoitra's long, pink tongue. Then realization hit him like a truckload of gold bars. He had to escape, somehow.

Panic, now fully awakened, reared its ugly head. Boiled in his chaotic mass of thoughts was terror and abject horror. He was in Hueco Mundo. He'd had sex with an Espada! Where was Zangetsu? Without his zanpakutou, Ichigo was practically defenseless. He might as well parade around with a neon lights attached to his forehead, screaming 'Come get me!'. Paralyzed with a blaze of dread, he watched with wide eyes as Nnoitra stretched and nimbly rolled off the mattress, tossing the clothes on the chair to Ichigo. Leaning down to pick up his Espada uniform, Nnoitra sneaked a glance at Ichigo.

"Drugs finally worn off?" He grinned knowingly, tugging the sleeves of his uniform over his arms. "Don't worry. I ain't gonna attack you."

_Damn that Szayel…_ Ichigo swallowed in anticipation.

Sliding his feet through his sandals, Nnoitra leaned down and tilted Ichigo's chin with a finger. "You'll probably like it here, Shinigami. Plenty of dead things to play with."

With that, he lifted his axe-like zanpakutou over his shoulder and left the room, leaving Ichigo to stare vacantly at the stone door sliding shut.

_That's right. I was drugged._ Ichigo bit his lower lip as he sat limply on the soft mattress. _It was stupid of me to be so careless._

Clenching the blanket in his fists, Ichigo took a few more deep breaths, finding his inner chi in an effort to calm himself down. Slowly making his way out of bed, he ignored the dull throbbing pain in his lower back and tugged the chair closer toward him. Upon unfolding the bundle of clothes, he realized Grimmjow had provided him with a pair of sandals like the ones the other Espada wore.

"No sword," he muttered to himself. Why did he even bother feeling disappointed? It shouldn't have been a surprise that Aizen wouldn't supply him with something to defend himself with.

Wasting no time, he tugged on the clothes and exited the room.

._.

Grimmjow made his way across the vast sandy area to a secluded building, where it would provide him sufficient shade from the glaring, merciless sun. On the outside, he looked the same – hands stuffed into his pockets and facial expression set in his ordinary scowling mode. However, on the inside, he was burning with rage.

Hadn't Aizen requested that none of the Espada were to touch Ichigo? It pained him to know that Ichigo had so willingly allowed Nnoitra to deflower him.

"My heart aches," he muttered as he kicked an innocent rock out of the way. "Ugh, what am I saying? I don't have a heart."

Clenching his fists inside his pockets, Grimmjow released an animalistic growl as he resisted the flaming desire to stomp back to Ichigo's quarters and beat the crap out of Nnoitra. Instead, he aimed a hard kick at the building's wall.

"Christ," he leaned his forehead against the surprisingly cool stone. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

"I'd say everything, by the looks of it."

Jumping back about seven feet from the wall, Grimmjow looked around in surprise. "Who the hell…?"

"Up here, you idiot," The owner of the voice was none other than Barragan, the ancient looking second Espada. High up on a shaded stone pillar, he was seated on a royal looking chair, complete with ornate gold carving and plush red cushioning.

Grimmjow shielded his eyes from the sun as he glared. "What the hell do you want?"

"Watch that mouth of yours, boy," Barragan pointed his sinister looking scepter in the Sexta Espada's direction. "Just who do you think you are?"

"Grimmjow Jeagerjacques," Grimmjow retorted with an undertone of a snarl. "Brain getting mushy in your old age, Barragan?"

The wizened crone chuckled. "My, aren't you precious."

Yet again, Grimmjow was reduced to indignant spluttering. "Shut up!"

_This really isn't my day, _Grimmjow ran a hand through his wavy blue hair, mussing it up in his frustration.

Seeing his obvious discomfort, Barragan heaved a grave sigh and tapped his nails on the armrest of his chair. "Problems, boy?"

"You have no idea," Grimmjow mumbled dejectedly. "Anyway, get lost. This is my spot."

"I was here first." Barragan replied smoothly without hesitation. "Besides, if you've got something on your mind, it's best to spit it out than let it simmer in your intestines."

"What are you talking about, you goddamn old man?" Grimmjow flicked some sand at him. "At least say something that actually makes sense and doesn't sound so freaking weird."

Barragan blew the sand grains back at him with a patient smile. "Ah, the naivety of the young…"

Incensed, Grimmjow rolled his eyes. "Whatever, who'd wanna talk to someone like _you_ anyway?"

He stomped under a stone precipice, where he could finally get out of the sun, and hopefully, out of Barragan's interest. He had no desire to continue the argument with the stronger Espada; not because he was afraid of a fight breaking out, but because he was too frustrated to argue. He had never been good at verbal disputes, anyway.

_No such luck, _Grimmjow thought to himself as Barragan floated downward in his chair. _I'm probably the only source of entertainment he has in this god forsaken place._

"I see you're troubled about the Shinigami substitute," Barragan observed aloud, leaning back comfortably in his seat. "Perhaps I may be of assistance, boy."

"Quit calling me boy!" Grimmjow snapped, itching to punch the patronizing smile off the ancient Espada's face. "I'm an adult. I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Barragan continued to probe. "You look like you're knee deep in quicksand, and you're not going to get out anytime soon, it seems."

Grimmjow used both hands to scrub at his face. "Just … shut up for a moment, will you?"

There was silence on Barragan's part and Grimmjow exhaled a small sigh of relief. Now, he could finally think in peace. His thoughts were scattered all over the place, but his main problem was Ichigo. Linked to him was Aizen, whom Grimmjow knew well enough not to place his trust despite him being his superior as well as creator. The teenager was innocent, Grimmjow knew. He wasn't involved in any plans for the destruction of Seireitei, though he was a tough opponent to defeat. So why was Aizen interested in him? And why the drugs? Szayel would know. He was the one whom Aizen trusted with the drugs, so he would definitely have an idea of what was going on.

"Why do I care so much, anyway?" Grimmjow rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "It's not like I owe Ichigo anything."

"That's true." Barragan sounded much closer than before. Grimmjow blinked wearily up at him, where he sat hovering above in his chair. "You care about him though. He did, after all, help you once."

"No," Grimmjow muttered as he lowered his gaze. "His friend Orihime healed my wounds."

"Do you think she would have done so if Ichigo did not ask her to?"

Grimmjow's blue eyes widened a fraction before he scowled. "He didn't have to … I never asked for his help."

"Nevertheless, what's done is done." Barragan used his scepter to poke Grimmjow in the ribs. "And you feel obliged to help him back, don't you."

It wasn't a question. Grimmjow rubbed absently at the spot where he'd been jabbed and heaved another sigh. "So what's your point, old man?"

"You know it well," Barragan answered truthfully. "Do you think Aizen would just summon the Espada to kidnap the Shinigami and hold him hostage just for fun? Obviously he has other plans in mind. Without Ichigo, Soul Society will be handicapped."

"That's stupid!" Grimmjow scoffed, frowning up at the older Espada. "There are thousands of other Shinigami ready to fight at their captains' commands, and yet you say they'll be handicapped?"

Raising an eyebrow, Barragan rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "I thought you would be smarter than that, boy. You have fought Ichigo before, haven't you? At that time, he wasn't that strong, but from my experience, never judge a soul by its body. So you've realized the extent of his strength – even by detecting his reiatsu, you know he's extremely powerful. He's a Vizard now, too. I can smell the scent of his inner Hollow, even from here. He is only weak under the influence of Szayel's drugs. And here," Barragan gestured around the isolated desert. "He has no allies. But he does have a whole load of enemies. Who's to say the other Espada will leave him alone … all because of Aizen's commands?"

"But Aizen specified that we weren't to touch him!" Grimmjow sat up, brushing the sand from his clothes. "And Nnoitra…"

"Now do you see it?" Barragan chuckled. "This is most obviously a test. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out by now, boy. I always thought you had a good sense of direction. Don't prove me wrong now."

Grimmjow ignored the subtle insult. "A test? What the hell does Aizen want to test us for? Haven't we already pledged our loyalty, our lives, our –"

"Our self tolerance, boy, is something Aizen has never tried to assess." Barragan duly pointed out. "Well, he won't find any fault with me. I have a lot of experience with enduring temptation."

Grimmjow shot him a puzzled look. "…Temptation?"

"As much as I'd like to play games with the Shinigami," Barragan explained, smirking. "I am wise enough to discern that Aizen is the one playing with _us_."

Clenching a fistful of sand, Grimmjow glowered. "And the others, do they know of this?"

Shrugging one shoulder, Barragan winced. "Oh, my back. Ahem. Well now, seeing as Nnoitra is already out of the game…"

_Shit_, Grimmjow thought worriedly as he leapt to his feet. _I have to protect Ichigo!_

._.

Nnoitra headed back to the main building, where all the other Espada were lazing around. Well, most of them, anyway. He sauntered over to where Ulquiorra was standing, gazing out into the immeasurable barren land while the wind ruffled through his black hair.

"Watcha doin'?" He asked casually, tapping Ulquiorra's white bone mask affectionately. "Spacin' out again?"

"Of course not," Ulquiorra replied, turning around to look him up and down. "Your uniform is on back to front, Nnoitra."

"Shit," Nnoitra tugged at his clothes. He'd forgotten to yank his spoon-like lampshade back up.

Behind him, Lilinette giggled. "Your hair's all messed up, too."

Wonderweiss babbled in gibberish as he reached up to take a fistful of Nnoitra's hair. Ulquiorra sighed as the two Arrancar wrestled, Lilinette cheering them on.

"I regret to inform you, Nnoitra," Ulquiorra stated calmly. "You are now forbidden to go within a ten meter radius of Kurosaki Ichigo."

"The fuck?" Nnoitra stopped in mid-wrestle, one palm on Wonderweiss' face, the other clutching his precious locks. "Says who?"

"These are Aizen's orders," Ulquiorra answered smoothly. "Failure to abide by his rules will consequent in banishment and possible death. Thank you for your cooperation in advance."

He stalked away silently, leaving Nnoitra staring in absolute shock. After several seconds of stunned silence, Nnoitra turned to glare at Stark suspiciously.

"What the hell was that all about?"

Stark snored loudly in response.

._.

Ichigo shuddered in his white Espada uniform, despite the heat. The desert was practically seething under the pitiless sun, and dark patches of sweat was already beginning to show on his clothes. Now that the drugs had worn off, Ichigo could think clearly again. He could sense the reiatsu of several Espada around, and none of them were very inviting. He sighed, grateful for the sandals that Grimmjow had provided him.

_Not Grimmjow_, his mind seemed to automatically correct him. _It was Aizen._

_No_, his conscience denied. _Grimmjow brought them for me._

"Gah!" Ichigo kicked a small sand dune in front of him angrily. "What am I thinking? I'm supposed to be finding a way out of this fucking desert!"

He stomped on, feeling irritated and on edge. He dearly missed the familiar feel of Zangetsu on his back, but he had to learn how to adapt to situations like this. Weren't Shinigami supposed to be versatile? Ichigo gritted his teeth and made his way across the long stone pathway in the simmering heat. He could see the tops of buildings further on, but despite his brisk walk, he seemed to be getting further and further away from them.

"Jeez, what the heck is up with this place?" he frowned, glaring at the buildings further on. "The closer I walk toward them, the farther I end up from them."

_It's a mirrored area, King. Just like how it is inside here._ Shirosaki echoed softly. _Glad it stopped rainin', by the way. _

Ichigo sucked on his lower lip thoughtfully. "So if I turn back and walk away from it, I'll actually arrive at my destination?"

_Not really,_ Shirosaki replied mysteriously. _But you're welcome to try._

"What?" Ichigo hissed, clenching his fists out of sheer exasperation. His blunt nails dug firmly into the palms of his hands, leaving indents. "This is so confusing!"

He turned on his heel and walked back anyway, trying to keep his mind off the heat as he muttered to himself. He reached the shaded corridors again and swerved around them, instead walking to the back of the building. Just where the hell was he? And where were the other Espada? If he could just stop and ask one for directions…

"Ugh, here I go again," Ichigo rolled his eyes. "Assuming they even want to talk to me instead of pitching a fight, they'll probably give me the wrong directions for the heck of it."

"Oh no! It escaped!" a rumbling voice scared Ichigo out of his wits.

"Don't just sit around, look for it!" another deep voice followed.

Ichigo jumped back as a small sand lizard skittered over his sandaled feet and away into the sand. He couldn't help noticing that it was made entirely of white bone, with vacant black holes for eyes. Come to think of it, he mused thoughtfully, the scorpion before was made of bone, too. A thump sounded in front of him, snapping him to attention.

"Hey, a new Espada." An extremely large Arrancar stood before him, wiping his hands on his uniform. He had a large bone mask under his chin in the shape of teeth. "Have you seen our lizard?"

Another Espada, possibly Zommari, lumbered up and stared. Ichigo raised a hand tentatively in greeting.

"Um, hi," he said awkwardly. "I haven't seen your lizard."

Zommari stared. "I know you. Yammy, meet Kurosaki, Aizen's new toy. He was naked before."

Embarrassed, Ichigo glared, feeling a light blush tint his cheeks. "Who undressed me?"

"Grimmjow," Zommari stated candidly, narrowing his eyes at Ichigo. "Aizen made him carry you into your bed and strip you. Said he didn't like the sight of your Shinigami garments."

Ichigo gave a disgruntled sigh. "Just great. Look, I'm not here to fight. I just want to get out of this place. The heat is killing me."

Yammy blinked down at him in surprise. "What heat?"

"Wha-?" Ichigo had to shield his eyes from the sun just to look at him clearly. "You mean you can't feel the heat at all?"

"We're Arrancar," Zommari explained, turning his back on Ichigo and lumbering away. "We have a higher level of endurance than most other beings. Come on Yammy, let's find another sand lizard."

Yammy gave Ichigo a polite wave before following Zommari, his massive hulking form similar to that of a large elephant.

Deciding it wouldn't be wise to bother the two colossal Espada any further, Ichigo turned to the right and walked on, hoping to find someone else who would help. Before he knew it, he reached a large dome-shaped building, with a substantial opening encircled with stone pillars. Up close, it resembled a gigantic stadium. Ichigo wrinkled his nose distrustfully before going against his instincts and walking in.

* * *

**Yay! C: **


	3. Mistakes

**Thank you for your generous support. – Hands out chocolate eggs – And sorry for the wait! I had to finish about six pages of line art on Grimmjow and Ichigo before I could get my hands on Kidnapped! I don't own a tablet; see, so it takes me a really long time because I try to get everything lined to perfection. And also because I'm kinda new to line art. I was thinking of getting a Wacom Bamboo for myself this Christmas, but then I'd be further away from getting other things on my wishlist. Decisions, decisions…**

._.

Barragan smiled contentedly to himself as he watched Grimmjow speed off in the direction of Ichigo's reiatsu strands.

"Ah, the veracity of the young." He tapped his scepter against his royal chair. "It was rather exciting to see the soft side of Grimmjow. No matter how dangerous he tries to act, he's like a quivering piece of jelly on the interior. All soft and tender like. Don't you think so, Charlotte?"

"But I don't think he's very beautiful." Charlotte twirled a strand of his curly purple hair. "He certainly can't appreciate the sexy allure that's emanating out of my aura in perfect little swirls…"

Barragan heaved a heavy sigh. "Why did I ever pick you as my Fraccion?"

._.

Grimmjow sneezed in quick succession on the way down the trail leading to the main building.

_Is someone talking about me?_

He brushed that thought aside as quickly as it came up. Those were only silly human beliefs. His black and white sandaled feet made no sound in the deep desert sand as he flash stepped back to the dome shaped building Aizen had erected. It was the Arrancar sanctuary, especially after missions that involved fighting with Shinigami. There were healing potions and other lesser Arrancar to serve their every need.

He finally slowed to a stop, breathing heavily. "Damn it, I should just use a Gargantuan."

_Why the hell didn't I think of that before?_ He growled inwardly, using one hand to open up a yawning black hole wide enough for him to step in. When the darkness closed around him, he shut his eyes and allowed himself one moment to let his emotions wash over him. Rage and anger, the bright red swirls wisped around the space of the back of his eyelids, followed by disappointment, a deep gray splotched with darker tones of depression. Blending in with the sour feeling of disappointment was sadness, a horrid tone of black speckled with brown. Grimmjow bore with the feelings for a long drag of one second, feeling the usual path of traveling through the desert and past the white pillars into the dome shaped building made of stone flittering in the background. A certain orange haired teen dressed in Shinigami garment infiltrated the empty spaces in his mind, and he blinked his eyes open in surprise.

_Ichigo._

The depressing blackness seeped away, only to be replaced by a light, gentle shade of blue. Grimmjow's favorite color. It represented peace, tranquility, and best of all, contentment. It was only during a duel with Ichigo when he felt all three, including the raging yellow-gold of adrenaline pumping through his veins. All of these thoughts lasted a mere span of two seconds before the darkness surrounding him yawned open once more to reveal the pure white of the marble and stone pillars around him. Grimmjow stepped out onto the immaculate marble floor, his zanpakutou clinking familiarly at his side.

Ichigo's reiatsu strands were now emanating more strongly, a sure sign that the teenager was located somewhere within the building. Grimmjow narrowed his ice blue eyes, feeling the thrill of hunting his prey pulsing through his nerves.

_No. _He stopped himself. _I can't hurt him. I have to protect him._

The urge to protect Ichigo triumphed over the urge to fight him, pounding down the killer instinct inside Grimmjow. Barragan was right. To fight Ichigo, defenseless and without Zangetsu was like slamming a baby kitten's head against a boulder repeatedly. It would be cruel, brutal, and vindictive. Grimmjow wasn't sure he could live with the guilt later on.

_But if I kill the boy now,_ he chided himself, fingers stroking the hilt of Pantera lovingly. _This entire mass of problems will disappear._

He exhaled a slow, agonized breath. _No, they would never disappear. Halibel was right. I am obsessed with him._

This obsession wasn't healthy, Grimmjow knew. Still, he kept walking. Ichigo's spiritual power was fluctuating between mighty and extremely weak now, but there was no doubt that the teenager was near. There was a small, persistent reiatsu that reeked of another Hollow's, but it wasn't troubling as of yet. Grimmjow wondered absently whether Aizen was using the Hogyoku to create more Arrancar again.

A flash of white floated into the corner of his view.

The familiar sinister grin, narrowed slits of eyes and long, black hair spelled the significance of Nnoitra. He had his zanpakutou out, stretched behind his back as he balanced it between hand and shoulder, the scythe-like twin blades reflecting the light from the sun's glare.

Pure instinct told him it was time to draw out Pantera. Grimmjow acknowledged it, but he didn't will his hand to move to the hilt of his zanpakutou.

"So, Grimmjow," Nnoitra began with a lazy drawl. "Starin' off into space like that will make you a very unlucky bastard."

Those were fighting words, with a hint of mockery laced in between.

Grimmjow recognized them with a snarl. "Get to the fucking point, Nnoitra. I don't have time to play around with your stupid games."

"Oh?" Nnoitra raised one thin eyebrow tauntingly. "Seems to me like you have all the time in the world."

"What do you want?" Grimmjow spat, wary of the other's rank in the team of Espada. Nnoitra could be bitchy as hell, but he wasn't the fifth Espada for nothing.

Shaking his head and laughing, Nnoitra awarded Grimmjow with a wide grin. "To piss you off, ain't that obvious? That's right, I knew you had to be Sexta for somethin', and bein' stupid as hell wasn't on my list of excuses."

Gritting his teeth to stop himself from charging forward and plunging Pantera into Nnoitra, Grimmjow tried to calm himself down. He wasn't afraid of challenging Nnoitra to a duel; far from it, albeit his ranking was one level lower than the other Espada. Grimmjow had no doubts or qualms about kicking Nnoitra's ass, and he didn't need a reason to fight, but Barragan's words were still playing over and over in his head, like a tape stuck on playback forever.

_{"Our self tolerance, boy, is something Aizen has never tried to assess."}_

The words burned a hole in his mind. If he fought Nnoitra now, they would definitely bring the attention of Aizen onto them.

_{"…seeing as Nnoitra is already out of the game…"}_

_Forget this shit right here._ Grimmjow licked his lips and turned away, walking onward to the feel of Ichigo's reiatsu. _Nnoitra's not important. Right now it's …_

"Running away from me, Grimmjow?" Nnoitra called after him. There was no mistaking the mockery in his voice now. "I always knew you were a coward. I guess this proves it all, huh?"

_Let it go, let it go. _Grimmjow ground his teeth in anger, feeling a nerve twitch on his temple. His fingertips traced the woven patterns on Pantera's hilt, the familiar clink of his zanpakutou against his side as he walked soothing the traces of fury inside him.

It was unlike him to walk away from a fight, but this time Grimmjow had already anticipated the outcome. He knew what Nnoitra didn't, thanks to the help of Barragan. Inhaling a deep breath of air, he made his way further down the white pillared corridor, his feet making no sound as they padded on the marble floor. For the span of a heartbeat, Grimmjow couldn't feel Nnoitra's reiatsu, and then –

In a flash, he was gripping Pantera with one hand, warding off Nnoitra's blade, just inches from his face. The ground beneath them was shaking from the sheer force of Nnoitra's reiatsu against his own. Grimmjow gave a quick flick of his wrist and expertly withdrew from the Quinto Espada swiftly. He somersaulted backwards and landed gracefully on his feet, almost like a panther after leaping off a tree.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Nnoitra?" He all but growled out, gnashing his fangs as he struggled to contain the urge to destroy the gleeful Espada before him. "You know we're not allowed to fight inside this building."

"Who died and made you Saint Michael, Grimmjow?" Nnoitra drawled, licking one of his twin blades. The black number five tattoo stood out against the pink of his long tongue. "An' I thought Ulquiorra was the one with the stick up his ass."

"Be careful who you're talking about," Grimmjow snarled back. Already, his patience was wearing thin. "Don't bring Ulquiorra into this."

There was a moment of silence as his mind registered what he had said. _Did I really just defend Ulqui?_

Nnoitra's harsh laugh broke the thin thread of quiet. "Quit fuckin' around, Grimmjow. Do you honestly think Ulquiorra's your friend?"

_Shit._ Grimmjow released a small breath as his grip around Pantera's hilt tightened. He was loath to admit it, but Nnoitra was right in every aspect. The way of the Espada did not involve allies. It was true that they had Fraccion to carry out their bidding and commands during battle and such, but they were not altogether united, nor were they comfortable being around each other for long periods of time. It was almost as if they were brought together by a force, and that force was Aizen. Split apart, they would be at each other's throats almost immediately, given the chance.

"No, 'course not." Nnoitra waved one hand airily. "I don't think you're _that_ stupid. But if you were, at least I've helped to enlighten you. Don't make the same mistake again, Grimmjow. None of us will ever be brought together as _friends_."

In a flash, Nnoitra was rushing at him, zanpakutou held out at the ready. Grimmjow was unprepared for his full swinging attack, and he was sent flying toward a pillar, where he collided with the stone, producing a loud rumble. Bright yellow static was crackling around him, remnants of Nnoitra's power from the blast.

"You see, Grimmjow?" Nnoitra towered over him, the spoon like lampshade that was part of his Espada uniform adding to his height. "You're weak. You've become like this because on the inside, you're just another empty shell, half filled with jealousy."

Grimmjow's cerulean eyes widened. "What …?"

"That's right, Grimmjow," Nnoitra hissed, aiming his scythe at him. "Did you think I didn't notice the way you were eyin' him? He's all mine now, y'know."

Getting to his feet and ignoring the throbbing pain around his shoulder blades, Grimmjow glared. "There's no way in hell I would want someone like Ulquiorra."

Nnoitra burst out laughing. "Ah, so maybe I was wrong. You really are dense, Grimmjow. Y'see, it was Ichigo I was talkin' about. Y'know the one you found me in bed with this mornin'?"

_Bed; Nnoitra and Ichigo? The mere thought is repulsive. Yet Ichigo just opened up to him like that, like a desperate whore on the streets... _Grimmjow bit on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood. _No, there's no way the kid I know would do something as shitty as that. He was drugged. _

"I get it." Grimmjow lowered Pantera. "So you think I'm jealous? Just because you and Ichigo had a little fun without me knowing? You think you can rile me up by gloating in my face afterward?"

He flash stepped in front of Nnoitra, one hand fisting his collar, and the other plunging Pantera into Nnoitra's arm.

Nnoitra released a strangled gasp of shock. Grimmjow grinned. The blade sunk in with a sickening crunch as metal slid against bone. Blood leaked out, the severe red bright against the white of Nnoitra's skin.

"Thought I couldn't touch you, did you?" He observed quietly. "You were so caught up in flinging insults at me that you barely blocked it."

Kicking Nnoitra in the stomach, Grimmjow released a cero at his finger tips, aiming his blast carefully.

"Damn right I'm jealous, Nnoitra. But I know that I have a better chance at making him happier than you do." With that, he blasted Nnoitra straight into several pillars, creating destruction and mass rubble all the way down the corridor.

._.

There was a tremendous burst of power, Ichigo realized, standing his ground as the entire building around him rumbled and shook. It felt almost equal to an earthquake measuring 9.5 on the Richter scale. What shocked him the most was that he felt Grimmjow's and Nnoitra's reiatsu emanating from the walls around him. That meant they were very close by, and any strong blasts could kill him if he wasn't careful. Judging from the way they were clashing about, they were definitely having a duel. It pained Ichigo to know that the two Espada he knew were at each other's throats.

But where? Where the hell were they? If he could intervene and somehow stop the fight … neither would get hurt. Didn't they have rules Las Noches? Were they allowed to fight so openly like this? Ichigo felt his heart thump hollowly in his chest. What if Nnoitra hurt Grimmjow?

A hand clamped over his mouth, and another snaked around his waist, pulling him into a tight grip that he could barely struggle out of. The reiatsu emanating from the Espada behind him was unknown, but Ichigo thrashed about nonetheless, hoping to somehow break free.

"You needn't worry," the Espada behind him whispered softly into his ear, tickling the skin on his neck. "Nnoitra's been put on restriction by Ulquiorra. It's Grimmjow you should be wary of."

Ichigo resisted, trying to twist around so he could get a good look at his captor's face, but his efforts were futile. He was dragged backward as the Espada flash stepped away from the seething reiatsu of the Quinto and Sexta Espada. The wall he had been standing right in front of blew to bits with the force of Grimmjow's blue cero.

"Mmph!" His scream muffled, Ichigo grasped at the white gloved hands covering his mouth.

He stopped almost immediately as his eyes recognized the pattern on the gloves. And right under the glove was a number one tattooed elaborately on the fair skin.

"I believe you do know who I am, Kurosaki."

The voice was faintly familiar, now that Ichigo realized. It had to be the drugs that were still inside his system. He'd assumed they'd vanished after the panic attack with Nnoitra in his quarters, but now … he wasn't so sure anymore.

When they had flash stepped to a safer area, Ichigo noted with slight relief that Nnoitra's and Grimmjow's reiatsu were both distant and far-away than before. At least he wouldn't be obliterated by their spirit energy. Or flying rubble, for that matter.

The Espada released him and stood back a few steps so Ichigo had enough space to whirl around and stare.

"Stark …?" he asked uncertainly, his honey brown irises searching into light grey ones. "Why did …?"

"Why did I save you?" Stark offered him a grim smile. "Any longer and you would have been crushed to pieces by flying rocks. Or would you have preferred to stay right behind the very wall they were fighting at?"

Ichigo shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. Stark had saved him? But why would he do something like that? They barely knew each other, but on terms of respect, they would never stoop to help one another if needed. These Espada were beginning to confuse Ichigo. First they were nasty, and then they were kind. What were they up to?

"No. But thank you, I can defend myself just fine." Ichigo ducked his head, embarrassed.

_Yeah right, King. You can barely survive a fist fight with them, y'know? _

Stark advanced toward him, and Ichigo found himself involuntarily taking a step back. It wasn't that Stark had a menacing aura, it was just … Zangetsu wasn't around, and any moment now, if Stark decided to strike, he would be at the Primera Espada's mercy.

"Are you afraid of me?"

_What? _

Ichigo swallowed, clenching his fists. Stark could smell the fear rolling off the boy in waves. But beneath the fear was something rock hard, like a solid steel fist of determination. So the boy wasn't fearless, which was excellent. He would be a fool to not be afraid. After all, he was so vulnerable in Las Noches.

"Answer me, Kurosaki Ichigo."

"…Yeah." Ichigo replied hesitantly, resisting the urge to back away and race off into the distance. There was no doubt that if he tried to do that, Stark would be right in front of him in a heartbeat.

"You should be." Stark cautioned, traces of a smirk sculpting his lips.

He raised one hand and traced a finger down Ichigo's trembling lips, from his chin to his throat, and from his throat to his neck. His skin was soft to the touch, Stark noted. Ichigo quivered and blushed like an innocent maiden.

"My, my. I had no idea you were so sensitive." Stark quirked the corners of his mouth into a devious smile. "Were you always like this?"

Ichigo gave a shudder and slapped Stark's hand away. "D-Don't fuck with me, goddammit!"

Stark relished in the fact that the Shinigami was blushing furiously, clutching at his neck.

"So who would you rather have their hands on you?" He asked curiously, mercilessly torturing Ichigo with his question.

Refusing to reply, Ichigo backed away further, intending to turn around and run as fast as he could. Flash stepping would be a great option, now that he finally realized Stark was out to get him.

"Is it Nnoitra?"

Ichigo turned a deep red. "What? No way in hell am I gonna let him touch me like … like _that_ again!"

His pride as a man was now being shredded to bits on the inside. Nnoitra had stolen his freaking virginity, for fuck's sake.

"Then … how about …"

Stark vanished and reappeared right behind him, pressing up against Ichigo's back.

"… Trying it with me?"

Ichigo blanched, alarm bells ringing in his head. He shot off at a run, but before he managed to put a mere two feet distance from Stark, he found himself body slammed into a wall. His back throbbed with pain, and the force of the impact on the hard marble sent ripples of dizziness through his head.

_Help, _he thought inwardly. _I have to get away!  
_

"You're fast, Kurosaki, I'll give you that." Stark said softly, leaning in to drop a chaste kiss on Ichigo's forehead. "Did I hurt you?"

Ichigo felt the all too familiar feeling of lust spiking back up in his system.

_Frigging fuck, no way in hell is this gonna happen to me…!_

Yes way.

Ichigo barely managed to stifle a moan as Stark slid a hand over his chest, feeling out his semi-erect nipples through the fabric of his Espada garment.

"Uhn, s-stop…" Reduced to mewling, Ichigo could only push against Stark's chest with a force of a frail 87-year-old on a five ton truck.

His muscles felt weak, and most of his energy was gradually draining out of him, almost as if someone had flipped a tap open. It didn't feel like the tap was gonna screw itself close anytime soon.

"If you don't resist me properly, I really will take you." Stark breathed against Ichigo's ear, his breath tickling the tiny hairs on Ichigo's neck.

_Yes, yes, please do it. _Ichigo fought to keep the words in his mouth, using his sheer willpower to ground his teeth against each other and endure the heat of the moment.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Stark asked, his voice husky.

Fighting to keep the words down, Ichigo shook his head, feeling his body temperature rise as his heart started to race. It was getting warmer with Stark against him, and _was that Stark's knee rubbing up against his thighs_? No, no, he couldn't bear to do this shit again. Once with Nnoitra was enough. It was the drugs that were forcing him to feel this way; he definitely didn't harbor any lustful feelings toward Stark. Besides, he'd just met him not too long ago – a day before to be exact.

_So what, King? S' not like you've known Nnoitra for ten years._

_Shut up, shut up, shut – ahhnnn~_

Ichigo bit on his tongue to keep from crying out as Stark's fingers pinched at his now fully erect nipples. When did Stark manage to get his hands under his shirt anyway? Another hand was sliding down his chest, past his abdominal muscles and straight toward the black sash that kept his pants up on his waist.

_No, I don't want this!_ Ichigo screamed inwardly. _I didn't want Nnoitra, and I don't want Stark! I really want …_

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Hearing the snarl, Ichigo jumped, shifting his gaze to the silhouette standing in front of the rubble to his left.

…_Grimmjow?_

Ichigo's heart gave a happy leap. Stark straightened up and dropped his hands to his sides, and the orange haired teen felt relief seeping into his bloodstream.

"Oh, so you're finished with Nnoitra, I presume." Stark slid his gloves back on. Ichigo realized he hadn't known when Stark had even taken them off. "It's surprising, though. I didn't feel your reiatsu."

"I've gotten better at hiding." Grimmjow flicked his gaze to Ichigo. "What did you do to him?"

Grimmjow noted with rage that Ichigo's face was flushed, panting, and his nipples were stiff under the cloth of his uniform. That very uniform Grimmjow himself had brought over so he could clothe Ichigo and thus save him from running around Las Noches naked. Inwardly, Grimmjow seethed.

"Nothing Nnoitra hasn't tried," Stark answered nonchalantly, his smirk seemingly taunting Grimmjow.

"Don't you dare touch him again." Grimmjow stared back with a look that clearly screamed possessiveness.

"Well, since you want him so badly, I guess it's time to take my leave."

With that, Stark turned on his heel and stalked away, leaving Ichigo to face the brunt of Grimmjow's fury.

"And you!" Grimmjow hissed, walking closer toward Ichigo. "I brought those clothes especially for you this morning, and now you're just gonna let any random pervert undress you?"

Ichigo flinched as Grimmjow slammed two fists into the wall beside his head. He was quaking in his Espada boots; Grimmjow's reiatsu was now overpowering his. Added to that, his cock was semi-erect and he felt the burning desire to launch himself at Grimmjow and bury his face in his toned chest.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, bringing his hands up to brush the damp strands of blue hair from Grimmjow's eyes. "I was looking for you, and Stark just …"

Grimmjow stared.

_Oh my god, he's so hot. I mean, it's getting really hot here._

Ichigo succumbed to his desires, leaning into Grimmjow and snaking his arms around the Sexta Espada's waist. Grimmjow smelled of sweat and sand, but Ichigo didn't mind. It was Grimmjow, after all. He buried his face in Grimmjow's jacket and breathed in.

"I was so worried." He murmured, fingers tightening their grip on the fabric. "If Nnoitra hurt you, I …"

There was an awkward silence on Grimmjow's part, but eventually he brought both hands up to stroke the boy's hair. It felt strangely comforting, like soothing a frightened kitten in his arms.

An Ichigo-sized kitten, that is.

"You think I couldn't beat him?" Grimmjow asked tenderly, threading his fingers through Ichigo's soft hair. "Well, I didn't hurt him enough to kill him, but it was enough to prove my point."

They stayed like that for a moment, comfortably aware of each other's presence. Ichigo sighed into Grimmjow's chest, feeling a happy haze envelope his senses, making him feel lightheaded and contented.

._.

Nodding solemnly at Gin, Aizen stared at the screen depicting Grimmjow hugging Ichigo close to him. He had already bade four Arrancar to feed Nnoitra some pills Szayel made in order to knock him unconscious just so Aizen could watch the romance drama unfolding on his monitor.

"Well, well, don't they look sweet together," Gin leaned his chin against Aizen's shoulder, nuzzling his lover happily. "I wonder what we'd look like in their places."

"I'm just waiting for them to kiss. The kissing scene would prove to be great merchandise for the female Arrancar here." Aizen answered calculatingly. "We could even sell posters and such for Grimmjow fans. Think of all the money we could make."

Gin giggled. "True, true."

"What amazes me, Gin, is that Szayel's drugs haven't worn off the Kurosaki boy yet. If just one syringe is all it takes to make him submit repeatedly, then I suppose we don't have to keep feeding him more."

"Ah!" Szayel popped in from the door like a jack-in-the-box. "There you are, Aizen-sama! I was looking all over for you. That Arrancar with the funky hair told me you were in your bedroom, so I went to check but you weren't there. I did find a lot of interesting items though…"

Aizen shot him a glare that could kill a lion. "You went through my bedroom, Szayel?"

"S-Sorry. Oh, but I needed to tell you something really important!" Szayel brushed the topic aside, effectively veering the subject to a fresh direction and avoiding a stab from Aizen's sword. "About the drug that I made for Kurosaki-kun, uh … I kinda injected the wrong vial into his system."

Gin fell off his chair.

"What?" Aizen asked quietly with a kind smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "Would you care to elaborate, Szayel?"

After much stammering and stuttering, Szayel managed to get to the point.

"Um, you see, I was kinda in a rush when you suddenly commanded Ulquiorra to bring us all to Karakura so we could capture the boy. I'd finished up with most of my experiments, but there were three vials left in the test-tube rack that I hadn't yet labeled, so I went with my instincts and grabbed the one that looked like the uh … initial drug you ordered me to make …"

Aizen glared some more. "And…?"

"So … I took the wrong one." Szayel successfully dodged three books flying his way. "Let me explain! They were all a reddish brown hue, and it was really hard to figure out which one was which when I only had five minutes to pack up! After some serious checking, it turns out that I injected the tube of aphrodisiac into the boy instead."

"But he's acting just as we expected," Gin mused thoughtfully. "So it shouldn't be too bad."

"No, no, you don't get it!" Szayel waved his hands around exasperatedly. "I made them with similar ingredients, but the one I inserted into Kurosaki was the Sex Maniac syringe! It was originally meant for Nnoitra, but … yeah, you catch my drift. Anyway, Ichigo's currently being submissive out of his own free will, which is kinda strange, but really adorable."

As Szayel prattled on, Gin turned to look at Aizen, who wore a devious look on his face.

"What're you thinkin' about, Aizen?" The silver haired Shinigami leaned against his knee, watching him curiously.

"Szayel." Aizen's stern tone successfully shut the pink haired Espada up. "You did well; I will not punish you, although it was your mistake. Make more of these … Sex Maniac drugs. You will report to me when you have completed your concoctions."

As Szayel bowed respectfully and dashed out of the room, Gin frowned up at Aizen. "Just what are you tryin' to do?"

"You'll see, Gin."

._.

**Bromance! :D Was it too short? I really want to know what you think. Review please~ **


	4. Vehemence

**Firecrackers! Yep, they're booming outside my house right now. And oh, they're so pretty to watch! **

**So, here's the fourth chapter. Sorry for the absolute lack of updates, I had to keep myself away from the laptop thanks to finals. Goodbye finals, hello college! If you ask me, both are equally as hectic, but hopefully I'll have more time to laze about on campus, lol. Anyway, here's to the continuation of Kidnapped! Cheers!**

.

Drip by drip, the glowing red liquid filtered from the large transparent canister into the hundreds of little syringes set in their respective ducts, moving mechanically on the rolling trays beneath. The soft whirring sounds the machinery emitted did little to deter a certain pink haired Espada's concentration on his new specimen – a sandy colored desert fox cub.

"Gently," Szayel whispered fondly over the hum of his high technology equipment. "And in goes the needle…"

The fox cub whimpered, tucking its tail between its legs as the 22 G ½ inch needle disappeared ever so slowly into its fur covered skin, puncturing the epidermis and layers of fat before it finally reached its muscle below the subcutaneous layer. Within seconds, the whimpers turned into full fledged whines and groans.

"Hush now, my love." With an expert air and deft fingers, Szayel swiftly extracted the injection once all the reddish hued liquid in the syringe had trickled into the fox cub's bloodstream. "You're in safe hands here."

Whirling around to flick several vials of various colored liquids, Szayel snapped on his latex gloves before producing a medium sized beaker from one of his spotless stainless steel cabinets. The fox cub eyed him warily as it shivered from its lying position on the steel laboratory table. The vast white room was chilly, albeit the large number of halogen light bulbs fitted into the ceiling above. With skilled hands, Szayel proficiently upturned all three vials into the beaker, successfully emptying them all without letting a drop fall onto his cold steel table.

"And this," The pink haired Espada approached the fox cub with a gleeful smile, shaking the filled beaker lightly. "Every little drop is going to drip all over you, my little sweetheart."

In response, the fox cub glared defiantly at the Espada, releasing a low growl. As Szayel neared, the cub snarled and tried to lunge at him, but found that its muscles would not obey its nerve impulses. Szayel observed this with considerable satisfaction, and allowed himself a quiet snicker.

"Feisty, aren't you, darling? We'll see how you'll react to this then, shall we?" This came out in a low hiss as Szayel ran his pink tongue over his sharp teeth.

The lens of his custom made glasses glinted in the light emitted from the bulbs above, adding effect to his intimidating stature.

A quick flick of his wrist and the entire contents of the beaker spilled out to splash over the fox cub, which retaliated in the only way it could – by squeezing its eyes shut as tightly as possible. There was a sharp hissing sound, and a heady smell of cinnamon followed suit. A puff of brownish smoke enveloped the terrified canine for a matter of five seconds before dissolving into the atmospheric air as if blown away by an invisible breeze. The fox cub was now panting heavily, its large black eyes glazed over. Seeing the animal's reaction, Szayel laughed excitedly, reaching out with a gloved hand to stroke the cub's damp fur.

"Has it worked, my sweet?"

The fox cub replied by leaning into Szayel's hand, panting eagerly for more of the warmth from direct contact with a heat source. It flattened its ears and lowered its gaze docilely, submitting under Szayel's authority. Before, it was a feral animal, and now its uncultivated characteristics had completely changed to that of a simpering lap dog.

"Once a wild heart, now a tamed slave." Szayel grinned widely, picking up the fox cub to cradle it in his arms. "Just how would you react to my sex hormone drugs, precious?"

The fox cub rubbed its head against the white of Szayel's laboratory coat, placing its trust fully in its new master.

.

"Nnn."

Soft orange hair tickled the edge of his nose. Blue eyes blinked open and squinted to see long lashes fluttering as the teenage boy in front of him slept serenely. Sunlight was filtering through the artfully designed pillars and windows, reflecting off the glassy surface of the marble floor. There was the usual quiet of the desert, save for the soft deep breathing coming from the boy sharing his bed.

Boy.

In his bed.

Grimmjow was forced into consciousness from his sleepy status. He ran a hand over his eyes, pulling every bit of information from his brain to form something that could put some sense into his bubbling mass of confusion. What happened the night before was something Grimmjow intended to ease his mind over slowly. It wouldn't do to get muddled up and jump to conclusions in his rush to straighten things out on the pathway.

So, what had happened the night before?

He'd fought with Nnoitra, destroyed part of the building they were in, and annoyed Aizen no end. Still, the Shinigami traitor hadn't punished him at all, which was sort of surprising. Alright, it was very surprising. Grimmjow supposed Nnoitra received the brunt of Aizen's anger due to his hand in starting the fight. However, this was a mere guess on the Sexta Espada's behalf. Grimmjow knew Aizen well, and he had duly expected his share of the castigation. It was strange when he was told that he was free to move around as normal without any rebuke. It got even stranger when Gin pushed Ichigo at him with his usual indecipherable sly grin and issued the command to 'keep the little Shinigami substitute for a while'.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The order had been vague and was as complicated to decipher as it was to teach a cow to read. Part of Grimmjow didn't want to take Ichigo in, but the other part of him felt it necessary in order to avoid any more random bouts of jealousy on his accord. He had battled with himself inwardly for a while, mulling over the horrendous possibilities that could occur while Ichigo was in his care. Nevertheless, Grimmjow had taken Ichigo into his quarters and allowed him to stay for as long as Aizen stipulated necessary.

It irked the Espada no end to know that he was being manipulated, like a toy, but he couldn't do anything about it. Besides, he wasn't about to get his arm sliced off again, now that the Orihime girl wasn't around. Grimmjow had lost all respect for Aizen a long time ago, anyhow. And as for Ichigo's plight, Grimmjow figured he would do his best to protect him from everyone else with hormonal thoughts on the brain. He managed to convince himself that he wasn't doing it out of sympathy or affection, but for his honor on behalf of the boy. Ichigo _did _help him before, after all.

The boy himself was problematic enough; shy and blushing one minute, then quickly morphing into an aggravated pubescent monster the next. Grimmjow hadn't any idea how to treat him now that the Ichigo he knew had undergone a drastic change in a matter of days. Obviously, the main root of this entire jungle of problems was Aizen and his dastardly plans. Well, that and Szayel's damn concoctions, which were constantly being put to use as of late. Normally, Grimmjow wouldn't give a flying fuck about the pink haired slimeball, but this time around things were growing fishier by the second and he needed to get down to the source. And if Szayel wasn't the origin of this complex issue, then he sure was contributing a large part of the plan.

Also, there was Gin, whose sly knowing grins never failed to prickle a mixture of dread and annoyance deep in Grimmjow's gut. Most of the Espada avoided the silver haired Shinigami by pure instinct, and anyone would be a damned fool to involve oneself with the man. Grimmjow chewed over this juicy thought for a moment, consequently coming up with the conclusion that Szayel was as equally creepy as Gin and they both deserved each other's company. Not that he'd ever witnessed them hanging out or anything. It was just that they were both menacing and owned spine-chilling trademark smiles. Grimmjow had his own sinister grin himself, but that was only used during battles when intimidating the enemy. He couldn't stop the maniacal grin from spreading across his face when adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He was _made_ for destruction, after all.

Dragging himself out of bed, Grimmjow surveyed his quarters as he fought back a yawn. He was barefoot, and shirtless. The walls were slightly chilly, which meant that it wasn't noon just yet. He couldn't feel the cold, much. Grimmjow glanced at Ichigo, who was now feeling around the bed for a source of warmth, his fingers curling and uncurling on the bedspread. Something tugged at Grimmjow's gut feeling, telling him that the boy was cold and needed the blanket that was mostly on the floor to cover his bare skin. He discovered that it felt kind of nice to see the boy sleep so peacefully. There wasn't a trace of the usual scowl he constantly wore.

One swift tug and the blanket was free in his hands. Grimmjow raised it up and covered Ichigo, pulling the edges over his bare shoulders. The movement caused Ichigo to stir, blinking back his sleep as amber irises squinted up at Grimmjow.

_Well, hell._ Grimmjow thought in disappointment. _I didn't mean to wake him._

He hadn't the faintest idea what to say now that the boy was awake. It was as if someone had flipped the awkward switch inside his brain, rendering his mouth useless.

"Good morning." Ichigo smiled up at him dreamily, breaking Grimmjow's embarrassed silence. "The sun's in your hair. It's beautiful."

_Just dandy, now I really don't know what to say._

Ichigo sat up and rubbed the sleep grit from his eyes. "Is it late? Did I oversleep?"

"Nah," Grimmjow finally untied his tongue. "I just woke up not too long ago."

"Oh," Ichigo stretched his arms out, arching his back like a cat. His toned muscles rippled in the sunlight streaming from the window slits. "That's too bad. I wanted to wake up first so I could watch you sleep."

Grimmjow felt his mouth turn dry. The boy was so fucking adorable, he could almost feel his heart melting. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing. Maybe it was better not to stare at the boy too much.

"What do you want to do today?" Grimmjow located his white jacket, which was thrown over a chair.

"Let's see," Ichigo stifled a yawn. "Is there any chance you could drop me home in Karakura?"

Grimmjow shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

"Not even kick me out of here so I can find my own way home?"

"Negatory."

"How about showing me Aizen's plans and telling me about his secrets and weaknesses?"

"Fat chance of that." Grimmjow said sarcastically. "We don't even know what he's planning most of the time. Aizen doesn't even tell Ulquiorra all of his strategy. He just gives us orders and we have to carry them out. If we fail, we're punished."

Ichigo made a face. "Huh. So what was your worst punishment?"

Grimmjow looked away carefully, feigning interest in the white marble tiled walls. "I can't remember."

A tight silence hung over the room, as Grimmjow sullenly dressed, and Ichigo played with the hem of the blanket.

"Aside from all that, what do you want to do?" Blue eyes met amber ones, and a thin line of truce was silently made.

"Explore, I guess." Ichigo rolled himself out of bed. "So, did Aizen turn you into my nanny overnight?"

Yanking a clean white Espada robe out of his closet, Grimmjow aimed it in Ichigo's direction. It hit the boy in the face, and amber eyes glared.

"Are you trying to piss me off this early in the morning?"

"You started it," Grimmjow replied, tugging his jacket on. "And it's not that early."

"What are you, seven?" Scoffing, Ichigo shook his head and dragged himself into the robe. "You're such an asshole."

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Grimmjow folded his arms over his chest. "It amazes me how fast your mood changes all the time. Are you usually this cranky?"

Ichigo turned away from him and avoided his gaze, lifting up the blanket and folding it neatly. "No."

_Ah, I get it_, Grimmjow thought. _It's the stuff Szayel injected into him. It's gotta be the side effects, cause he was meek as hell yesterday._

"Fine. Let's go out and explore, then." Grimmjow watched Ichigo straighten out the sheets like his life depended on it.

"Feeling sorry for me?" Ichigo barely glanced at him before plumping up the pillows mechanically.

_The nerve of this asshole. _Grimmjow walked over in two strides and grasped the scowling teen by the arm.

"Anything's better than watching you make the bed like the good little wife you are. Now let's go."

Ichigo yanked his arm away. "Don't touch me, jerk. You're just like everyone else!"

The image of Nnoitra cuddling Ichigo on a bed flashed through Grimmjow's mind. That was the last thing he wanted to remember. Jealousy raged through the Sexta Espada once more. So Ichigo had lumped him up with the likes of Stark and Nnoitra? Like hell was he anywhere close to their ridiculously disgusting levels. They had both taken advantage of Ichigo, and Grimmjow had not done a thing besides allowing the boy to share his bed. Where was the justice in that?

"What the hell is your problem? I am _not_ like any of them." Grimmjow clenched his fists, willing himself to succumb to patience.

The boy wasn't at fault, and clearly did not deserve any of this. Ichigo was like a wolf caught in a steel trap. Grimmjow couldn't bring himself to hit him.

"Prove it." Ichigo snarled, backing away as far as he could. "Tell me you're not following Aizen's commands like every other Espada. Tell me you've got a heart and compassion enough to understand what I'm going through."

Grimmjow was silent, plotting his next move. The boy was obviously distressed, and the Espada wanted nothing more than to calm him down before he started throwing things around. Already, Grimmjow could feel the searing heat of Ichigo's anger in the strands of reiatsu flowing his way. They shared a seemingly long, uncomfortable silence.

"You can't tell me that, can you?" Ichigo simply stood and stared at him with an empty expression. "It's because he made you that way, right?"

Grimmjow felt a growing sense of defeat from Ichigo's reiatsu, and was relieved that the teenager's fluctuating emotions were fading. There were imprints in his palms where his nails had been; Ichigo had clenched his fists so hard.

This was so strange. He barely knew how to deal with it.

"Regardless of whatever I was made from," Grimmjow stated softly. "Aizen gives us free will and free reign. We all have bowed our heads to him, but as for me, I hold no respect for him. A body is free to think as he wishes."

"So what _are_ you made of?" Ichigo's amber irises curiously trailed down to the gaping hole in Grimmjow's upper body, where his solar plexus would have been.

"Sand, probably. But I have a heart. I still bleed. I feel pain." Grimmjow shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets, regarding Ichigo with a forced nonchalance. "The hole is there to show that I was dead once."

Ichigo stared, digesting this new bit of information. "Shinigami are dead. They have no holes."

"You're wrong." Grimmjow replied. "I was once a lesser being. Having this hole in me now is proof that my chain to my previous attachments has been cut. I am free, but I still have bonds. Do you understand?"

Ichigo nodded, slowly leveling his gaze with the Espada's. "You can only be truly free if you're cut with a Shinigami blade."

It wasn't a question, more of a realization. Grimmjow smirked.

"Glad to have you back, Ichigo."

The teenager before him blushed crimson. "Shut up. We're going exploring. Now."

.

"Something bad is going on." Ulquiorra stared at Stark, who was sitting with his back to a polished marble pillar. "What do you propose we do about it?"

"Trust me; you don't want to get your ass in deep shit, Ulqui." Stark's reply was muffled as he remembered to cover his mouth while yawning.

"What is the worse thing that could possibly happen?"

Stark turned to Ulquiorra, meeting his blank stare with a surprised one. "Trust me, you really don't wanna know."

"That's the point; I don't trust you," Ulquiorra stated bluntly. "However, I am still concerned."

Sighing, Stark planted his Espada boots on the marble floor and pushed himself up. "Listen here, Ulqui. I've been around slightly longer than you have, but I still haven't figured Aizen out. That's how it goes; the guy's unpredictable. The more you question his schemes, the more surprises you'll have to endure. And let me tell you this, most of them aren't very nice. Sometimes it takes a lot of getting used to. He gives us free reign because we're his pawns. We slip up sometimes, but he's cool with that. Slip up all the time and you're out. It's just his way of ruling this place."

Ulquiorra crossed his arms and stared. "Szayel might tell me what Aizen is planning."

"Let's face it, Ulqui. When has Aizen ever told us all of his plans? He just tells us our part of the plan, and we carry it out. In the end, when the shit hits the fan, all we'll ever know are the parts of the story we've played, not the real reason behind it. But what we're all sure of is that the more power Aizen has, the more power he wants."

"What connection does the Shinigami boy have with Aizen's plans?" Ulquiorra asked, shifting his blank stare to the floor, then back to Stark. "He doesn't seem serious about power now. He's always monitoring the boy and that trash of an Espada Grimmjow."

"Everyone's trash to you. Face it, you're trash too." Stark heaved himself up while yawning simultaneously. "I am so sleepy. I don't know why, maybe it's because Lilinette and Wonderweiss were giggling so much last night. They're always together lately. Have you noticed?"

Ulquiorra nodded. "Do you feel envious?"

"Me?" Stark chuckled, stretching his arms out. "Nah, I'm good. I think they're perfect for each other. I mean, they're both annoying."

Nodding solemnly, the Quarto Espada watched Stark with his expressionless eyes. Stark walked over to him and reached out with one gloved finger to tilt his chin up.

"Let's go talk to Szayel if it makes you feel better."

Wordlessly, Ulquiorra agreed, pushing Stark's hand away.

.

"Why is it green this time?" Gin asked, tapping his long tapered fingers on the steel laboratory table. "Kinda looks like …"

"I don't care what it looks like." Szayel snapped, meticulously filling a vial with the transparent green liquid, using a dropper. "As long as it functions the way I expect it to, then I'm content. You should be, too."

"Touché." Gin grinned, shifting his body closer to Szayel's. "I'm happy you agreed to this for me."

Szayel shrugged dispassionately and corked the vial. "I don't mind. I didn't have any other imperative experiments to do, anyway."

The pink haired Espada tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear before leaning over the steel table to reach for another vial. Gin brought one hand up, sliding his long fingers down Szayel's lab coat-clad back, then finally stopping to splay over Szayel's ass.

Szayel squeaked as Gin gave him a firm squeeze. "S-Stop that!"

"Why?" Gin murmured sultrily, sliding his hand further to Szayel's other cheek. "Aizen would never find out if we don't tell him. And you'll never get into trouble."

Szayel swallowed and eyed Gin nervously.

Leaning closer, Gin whispered against the Espada's ear. "It's a win-win situation."

Szayel reluctantly slipped away, shaking his head. "Not tonight, Gin. I've already promised Nnoitra."

Gin stepped back, leaning against the table. "Loyal as ever, aren't we? Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Back to business," Szayel snapped, lifting up the full vials. "Make Grimmjow drink these, and you can kick back to watch the show. Putting him in the same room as Ichigo will definitely up the sexual tension between them. Make both of them drink these simultaneously, and you get a full night of porn for your disgusting entertainment."

Gin placed a hand over his mouth in a mock look of shock. "Who, me? Never. This is just to win my side of the bet with Aizen."

Szayel literally perked up. "Oh? So capturing Ichigo was just part of your bet?"

"There's supposed to be tons of sex involved, hence your concoctions." Gin chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. "Anyway, I mustn't say any more than I should. I'll be taking these, then."

Gin slid the vials of translucent green liquid into his robes with a thin smile. "By the way, Szayel, the plan about the bet should be between you and me. Or else."

He ran his slitted eyes up and down Szayel's front mischievously before leaving. The Octavo Espada promptly broke out in goosebumps.

.

"Look, I know this is hard for you, but can we at least get a move on? You wanted to explore, so let's get to it."

Grimmjow immediately regretted saying that the second after the words left his mouth. He hadn't meant to sound so overbearing and forceful. Ichigo remained silent, stubbornly staring at the golden brown sand beneath his sandaled feet.

"I'm sorry." Grimmjow muttered, running a hand through his wavy blue hair. "That didn't come out the way I wanted it to."

"This entire thing is pissing the hell out of me." Ichigo replied, shifting his gaze to the horizon and the endless stretch of sand. "I mean, I wake up, I fight hollows, I try to get some more sleep, and then I do some homework in the morning. After that, it's school, and lunch with friends. Then I go home and take a shower and laze around until dinner. The same routine as always. I try, oh god, I fucking try to be as normal as I can, but shit always ends up on the fan, y'know?"

Grimmjow nodded in agreement, shoving his hands into his pockets. "All the fucking time."

"And then I have to get kidnapped and thrown into a desert, where people treat me like some goddamn lab experiment. I'm not a fucking lab rat!" Ichigo yelled the last statement, surprising Grimmjow. "Okay? Stop fucking sticking needles into me and … and … treating me like some goddamn hustler! Cause I'm not one, you got that?"

Grimmjow blinked, unsure of what to say in a situation like this. He knew Ichigo wasn't yelling at him, but at Aizen.

"I just wanna go home. I wanna be me. Kurosaki Ichigo, the teenager with orange hair who always gets asked 'Is your hair color natural?' I wanna be able to answer 'Fuck yeah it's natural!' again. I miss my dad. I miss my sisters. I miss everyone! I miss my bed, my desk, my bathtub. I miss Keigo and his stupid chatter. I miss my TV. I …"

Here, the distressed teen promptly broke down to sobs that racked his whole body and made him hiccup. Grimmjow was clearly at a loss of what to do. He bit his bottom lip and started forward, hoping that enveloping the boy in his arms would make him feel better.

"Don't!" Ichigo stopped him, placing both hands on Grimmjow's toned chest. "Just … don't. You see what I'm going through? I'm turning into an emotional idiot. My brain feels like mush, I can't think clearly, and I feel like finding a rock and hitting my head on it repeatedly. I mean, look at me!"

The orange haired teen stabbed at his own chest viciously. Grimmjow watched him expressionlessly, careful not to let any traces of emotion show on his face lest Ichigo increase his stress. Inside, he was quaking with nerves.

"I'm a total mess right now. I know I sound like a girl, but most girls are mentally stronger than guys. This isn't me. You know that, right?" Ichigo sniffled, balling his fists and furiously rubbing at his puffy eyes.

"Of course I know that." Grimmjow whispered, not knowing why he felt the need to, but did so anyway. "I want you back the way you always were, too."

"You do?"

"Absolutely." Reaching up, Grimmjow pulled Ichigo's fists away. "Don't rub your eyes. They'll be swollen later."

Ichigo hiccupped in response. "You're so nice, Grimmjow."

Feeling the back of his neck itch, Grimmjow followed the instinct in his gut that told him they were being watched. "I'm not nice."

"You are too!" Ichigo murmured as he buried his face in the Espada's chest. "You put up with me even though I have these crazy mood swings."

"…Someone's watching us." Grimmjow mumbled into Ichigo's hair.

Pushing him away, Ichigo pouted. "Way to spoil the mood, Grimmjow."

"Oh yes, don't mind me." A silky voice interrupted smoothly. "Do carry on with your charmingly romantic prospect. We don't get to witness that every day here, so it's a welcome change."

Ichigo and Grimmjow turned to identify the source of the voice; Gin. The silver haired man was walking toward them, a huge grin plastered on his face. Instinct and reflex told them to back away slowly, which they did.

"Relax, boys. I'm just here to deliver something from Aizen."

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, distrust clearly laced in his behavior. "What would that be?"

Gin delved into his pocket to pull out two vials of dark green liquid. It had the consistency of muddy water. Ichigo eyed it anxiously, tightening his grip on Grimmjow's jacket.

"If you drink them, you'll be normal again." Gin smiled, fixing his gaze on the teenager. "But I must warn you about the side effects, though."

"What are they?" Grimmjow growled possessively, glaring at Gin with contempt.

"How should I know? I've never tried them. Szayel only told me that there would be … certain ingredients that would disagree with your system."

"Like a stomachache?" Ichigo questioned, absently playing with the hem of Grimmjow's Espada jacket.

"Possibly. Or aches in … other places." Gin's smile widened into a grin. "But you don't have to take it if you don't want to. You can stay in Las Noches for as long as you like, we've got no problem with that. You do, after all, make your own choices."

Grimmjow was pretty sure that something incredibly fishy was going on, and Gin's too-wide smile was enough proof of what his instinct was telling him.

"No, thank you." He snarled, sliding a protective arm around Ichigo's waist. "I think he's had enough of chemicals for the time being."

"Oh?" Gin's smile remained, but his once gleeful expression faded into an unreadable mask. "The problem is, you've been affected by Ichigo, Grimmjow. You'll need to drink this too."

"What the hell for? I feel normal."

Gin snickered, waving the vials enticingly. "Or so you think, Espada. Look at Nnoitra. He's a perfect example of being affected by Ichigo. It doesn't matter how much resistance you put up; you'll end up just like him eventually."

_Holy shit_, Grimmjow mused. _Is that why I've been staring at Ichigo so much lately?_

As if reading his thoughts, Gin chuckled. "You've been obsessed with the boy, haven't you? No telling when you'd try to take things to a whole new level."

Ichigo looked up at Grimmjow worriedly, clutching at his jacket. "Is that true?"

"Why do you think he took you in so easily?" Gin added before Grimmjow could respond, earning a glare of hatred in return. "It wasn't out of kindness. Espada weren't made to have those feelings."

"Shut up!" Grimmjow snarled, fury rippling off him in waves. "Don't talk as if you know anything about me, because you fucking don't, you goddamn creep."

Watching them both cagily, Ichigo loosened his hold on Grimmjow's clothes. The Sexta Espada hadn't denied what Gin had stated. Fear was rising in his chest. Suddenly, he was scared, and panic was rushing through his veins like a house on fire. If Grimmjow's kindness had only been for show, then what of the nice things he had said earlier? Had it all been a lie, and would he find out about the Espada's true objective?

_Gin is so right_, Ichigo backed away, letting his hands drop to his sides. _Grimmjow hates my guts. We were enemies before, and we're still enemies now._ _I was so stupid to believe all the things he said._

Grimmjow had turned toward him, a panicked, pleading look on his face.

"No, Ichigo, don't believe this idiot. He's just trying to confuse you; all his stupid lies are just … lies. Please listen to me, don't you trust me?"

Ichigo shifted his frightened gaze from Gin to Grimmjow, forcing himself to think straight.

Gin laughed cruelly, and to Ichigo it sounded like a raucous cawing of a crow. "Who would you really believe, boy? A Shinigami traitor, or an Espada created by one?"

Grimmjow continued to plead with his eyes, making no move to stop Ichigo from running away. He knew that if he made the wrong move, Ichigo's fear would be heightened and his emotions would get the better of him.

"I … I don't …" Ichigo stammered, fists clenching and unclenching his white Espada robes.

"Would you trust somebody who was created for destruction?" Gin continued, his smile thinning into an evil smirk. "Someone who would never hesitate to kill you or your family? Once ordered, he will do just that. He would never think twice about defying Aizen."

"That's bullshit and you know it!" Grimmjow disputed furiously, his seething rage imminent with sudden clarity. "Think about it, that last time when I defied Aizen!"

"Oh yeah," Gin laughed again tauntingly. "And then he cut your arm off as punishment."

Grimmjow's face was livid. "Don't you dare bring that up again, Gin."

"I could kill you, and you know that. It'll be so very easy for me, once quick flick of my zanpakutou." Gin replied snidely, his smile never leaving his face.

"Stop it!" Ichigo cried, but it was in vain.

"You wouldn't dare, Gin," Grimmjow answered with a sneer. "How would you explain things to Aizen when you need to replace me?"

"I said, stop it!" Ichigo hollered.

"That would be even easier, you little pawn." Gin chuckled derisively. "Do you really think he cares that much for his little creations? He's powerful enough to make a thousand more of you. You're just one of the few insignificant objects in his hands."

"Then maybe I should kill you first, before you get to me."

"You?" Gin scoffed. "Well then, I'd like to see you try."

"Cut it out!"

"You'll regret this, and I mean it."

"I never regret what I say."

The ground started to shake, and a loud rumbling sound echoed soon after, sending Grimmjow and Gin to their knees. The sand started to whirl up into large dust clouds, whipping bits of stone and grit in every direction. The air tasted faintly of Ichigo, and bright red strings of the teenager's reiatsu exploded from his chest, right before his solar plexus. Angry black wisps were curling out of him from behind, aimed straight at Grimmjow and Gin.

"Ichigo, no!" Grimmjow yelled, and dived for cover as a blast of red and black flew into his line of vision.

'Flew' could hardly be a way to describe the power and strength leaking out of that blast. It was more like a huge shockwave that positively roared. It was the sort of roar that could deafen people and crumble ten storey buildings to the ground. As it was, the ground shook and rumbled tenfold, as if begging for mercy from the bone crushing fury whipping out through Ichigo.

"Shit eating motherfucker." Recovering quickly from the blast, Grimmjow jumped to his feet, cursing Gin's teasing earlier. It had only managed to get Ichigo even more worked up than before. Already, the boy had been in a negative emotional state. This was to be the outcome of his mass confusion, fear, and worst of all – anger.

"It's your entire fault." A terrifyingly undead voice sounded close to the seething mass of red and black.

It took Grimmjow an adrenaline filled moment to realize the voice belonged to Ichigo. The boy's face was hidden behind a big bone mask, one that looked incredibly daunting. His eyes were glowing through the holes in the mask, and they weren't the sad, determined amber ones Grimmjow was used to seeing. They glowed red, and looked spine chillingly empty. Gin was quickly forgotten as the Espada's heartbeat raced in tandem with the tingling mixture of fear and exhilaration in his veins.

Grimmjow released a breath he had no idea he was holding, his body rigid with shock and awe. This was the boy who had shared his bed the night before, no, just hours earlier. This was the teenager who had been clinging to him in search of something secure just minutes ago. Also, Grimmjow realized with horrifying clarity – this was his enemy. He would hesitate to kill Ichigo, but would Ichigo hesitate to kill him?

He looked down at his sword, and gritted his teeth. No matter what the situation, he wouldn't pull it out, not in front of an enraged Ichigo. The boy was the one who needed help, not the other way around. There wouldn't be any fighting tonight if Grimmjow could help it.

The blue haired Espada looked up just in time to see a blinding flash of red and black rolling towards him. The blast whipped him up and threw him backward, further away from the incensed Shinigami substitute. He hit the ground hard on his back, and the whirling red receded.

Then everything went black.

.

**I was watching Bleach episode 271 while typing this out. I love how Ulquiorra's resurrection**** looks, all huge and intimidating – and so very sexy! His eyes turn green and yellow and he looks just plain incredible. Haha, Grimmjow's still my favorite though. I was imagining Grimmjow fighting Ichigo, and they were going at it really hard until … my mind took a different turn. /sly grin Orihime's panicky gasping and 'Kurosaki-kun! Kurosaki-kun!' was sort of a big turn off, though. Her voice actress has all my sympathy, though lol.  
**

**Hope you guys like this chapter. Thank you so much for all your reviews! I love how you all love my story. Hugs and kisses for all! :D Also, do review to tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. **


	5. Desire

**So dear readers, sex after a long wait? [Since January to be exact, sorry for my unintentional cock blocking.]**

**Can I get a HELL YEAH? ;)**

.

"What the hell was that?" Stark whirled around on his black-booted heel, white Espada robes swishing softly with the quick movement.

"Let's find out." Ulquiorra replied.

The two Espada used Sonido to appear silently at the source of the ominous rumbling, which was causing the very ground to tremble like a growing avalanche. There was a tremendous wind whipping around in the midst of red and black reiatsu strands, hurling little tornados of sand here and there.

"Is that the boy . . .?" Stark asked, sensing the immense power leaking his way.

"I should think so." Ulquiorra took a step backward to avoid a blast from an angry tornado. "But the boy is without his sword. How can he still have so much power in him?"

Someone flash stepped to their side. It was Gin, looking enormously pleased with himself.

"Oh, hello, you two!" He grinned jovially. "Did you come to watch the show?"

"Did you start this?" Stark ignored his question, flicking his gaze from the swirling mass of red and black reiatsu to the Shinigami traitor.

Gin gave him a mock salute. "Of course not. It's the chemicals in Szayel's drug."

"Just what exactly does it do?" Ulquiorra asked quietly, his usually expressionless face stony.

"Actually, your question should be: what doesn't it do?" Gin chuckled gleefully. "You see, Szayel claimed he took the wrong vial to insert into the syringe, which he then injected into the boy."

"Isn't he acting just as Aizen expected?" Stark folded his arms over his chest, watching the seething mass of red and black destroy buildings left and right. "He's unusually submissive and seems to have undergone a drastic personality change."

Gin turned and watched Stark through the slits of his eyelids, grinning malevolently. If the Espada perceived him as intimidating, they did a good job not showing it.

"Do you know why you were created, Stark?" Gin asked softly, the tone of his voice turning sleek and dangerous.

"I represent solitude." The Primera Espada answered cautiously. "The main basis of my creation is derived from one of the sources that lead humans to their death."

"Precisely so," Gin's chuckle was mirthless and slightly chilling. "Ulquiorra characterizes emptiness. Grimmjow signifies destruction. Nnoitra is the root of despair and Yammy symbolizes wrath. People who feel empty and lonely will despair. After despair comes anger and frustration. Through that mixture of feelings, humans begin to break down mentally and hence the birth of insanity, which is why Szayel was created. Another way for people to die is through intoxication, which brings us to the birth of Zommari. Too much of anything is never a good thing, as you may well know. Humans would sacrifice anything, even themselves, for their loved ones. Humans also sacrifice their loved ones for anything they desire due to greed. Those two points give rise to Halibel and Aaraniero respectively. And last but not least, we come to Barragan, the lord of death. Humans aren't immortal, so they die naturally through old age. All of you are the ten Espadas under Aizen's command – his swords, so to speak."

Gin paused to smirk at the two Espada, watching to see if his explanation had any effect. Their faces remained blank; they had heard all of this already.

"Anyway, Aizen had Szayel fabricate a certain type of drug, just so he could test it out on humans. But he wanted to know if it worked on Shinigami as well. A half-Shinigami, half-human was essential for the plan. Who else would fit the requirements if not the Kurosaki boy? Hence your mission to kidnap him and bring him here to carry out the experiment. Well done, by the way." Completing his explanation with a little congratulatory bow, Gin snickered behind one hand.

"I still don't understand," Stark muttered. "What do all of us have to do with Ichigo's annihilation? He's destroying all the buildings in this area and we're not doing anything to stop him."

"Oh yes, we'll get to that soon enough." Gin replied. "But I can't believe you haven't figured it out yet. Think about it. Szayel's drug has just a little bit of each of what all you Espada represent. This is only the first stage of his eradication. And if there's a tiny possibility he still survives the extremities, he'll eventually die though Barragan's ability; age. How would you like to see the worthless Shinigami substitute self-destruct from the inside?"

Ulquiorra and Stark exchanged glances.

"That's pure genius." Ulquiorra replied stoically.

"That's actually kind of sick." Stark made a face and yawned. "I'm so sleepy."

"Aren't you always?" Gin smirked, flapping a hand dismissively in the Primera Espada's general direction. "Anyhow, why don't we just enjoy the show - !"

"There will be no such thing."

Gin and the two Espada stepped back in surprise; they hadn't felt anyone else's reiatsu sneaking up on them.

"Aizen-sama!" Ulquiorra hurriedly dropped to one knee, as did Stark.

"How gracious of you to welcome us into your presence." Grinning widely, Gin stepped closer into his lover's embrace.

"You just didn't notice me, did you?" Aizen smiled lightly, but the warmth of his smile failed to reach his eyes. He turned to Ulquiorra with a puzzled frown. "I believe there is a job for you to carry out."

"Right away, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra bowed his head, and stood up, followed by Stark, who was struggling to stifle his yawns.

"Why are you here?" Gin pouted, leaning his head against Aizen's shoulder lovingly. "I didn't want you to see this mess."

Aizen tightened his grip around Gin's slim waist, pulling him into a tight one armed clasp. "Just like you didn't want me to figure out your silly little scheme?"

Stiffening under Aizen's grasp, Gin forced himself not to quail before the venom in the superior Shinigami's tone. He quickly avoided Aizen's gaze by turning around and staring pointedly at Stark and Ulquiorra as they slashed through Ichigo's angry reiatsu strands.

"The boy is powerful, isn't he?" Running a hand through his silver hair, Gin opened his eyes and sighed. "Well, that's to be expected, I suppose. Soul Society would never accept the likes of him if they didn't realize how immense his strength was developing into."

"Don't try to veer away from the subject, Gin," Aizen replied coldly without relinquishing his grip on his subordinate. "I know just when you're trying to distract me."

"Am I, now?" Gin turned back to Aizen with a devious smile. "How cruel of you to judge me like that."

"Did you forget I have hidden cameras everywhere?" Aizen slid one hand down to firmly grasp Gin's ass, tilting his subordinate's chin with the other. "Not only did I see everything, I heard everything too."

"Of course I didn't forget," Gin chuckled nervously, reaching up to award Aizen with a quick kiss. "I just wanted to see how well Szayel could resist the temptation of sleeping with me."

Aizen responded with a possessive growl.

By now, Ulquiorra and Stark were destroying the whirlwind of tornadoes, Ulquiorra with his bright green Cero, and Stark with his lightning blue one.

"Ooh, what a bad move," Gin snickered quietly; snuggling up to Aizen like a cat would to its master.

Ulquiorra's quiet blast of Cero lasered through the whirling sandstorm, headed straight for the furious mass of power that was Ichigo. Simultaneously, Stark's Cero shot through the night air with a roar, spiraling round Ulquiorra's into the same direction. The impact from both Espada managed to tear down a long row of buildings. Ichigo's red and black reiatsu collided with Stark and Ulquiorra's Cero, combining to form an exceptionally powerful blast of raw energy. The discharge was strong enough to crumble everything in its wake for miles around. Within a split second, Aizen and Gin sensed this, as did Stark and Ulquiorra. The Espada used Sonido to quickly escape to a safer radius of space. Aizen lifted Gin along with him and flash stepped away from the onslaught of danger.

"Oh my, what a gentleman." Gin deposited himself gingerly on the top of a tall white tower. "I knew you cared about me."

"Don't spout nonsense." Aizen replied smoothly, his white robes flapping in the breeze. "You have sand in your hair."

Noting that Aizen hadn't denied his statement, Gin muttered incoherently and brushed at his silver locks. Ulquiorra and Stark faithfully appeared at their side in a second.

"What now, Aizen-sama?" Ulquiorra questioned, surveying the disaster that lay below them.

"We should have some tea." His superior replied.

"Tea?" Stark stared incredulously.

Aizen frowned slightly, keeping his gaze locked on the crumbled buildings. "We aren't in any hurry. I happen to like tea. You could have coffee, if you prefer."

"That's . . . not what I was getting at," Stark stifled a yawn. "It's been weeks since I last slept properly. I want to get back to my quarters as soon as possible."

"Why, were you worried about Lilinette?" Ulquiorra asked, flicking his eyes toward Stark.

"Sort of." Stark offered him a thin smile and turned to look at the crumbled buildings before them. The concern on his face was carefully shielded with a blank mask. "But I think she can take care of herself well."

If Ulquiorra acknowledged the slight doubt in Stark's tone, he did not show it. "I am sure of it."

Stark gave him a silent nod of thanks.

The bubble of red and black reiatsu surrounding Ichigo suddenly cracked and vanished as quickly as it had occurred. While Aizen and his allies watched, the teenage boy's mask shattered into a hundred pieces, turning into ash as soon as it hit the sand. Ichigo dropped to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head as he fell to his side in the sand.

"Spectacular!" Gin clapped excitedly. "Pity he didn't manage to stay awake, though. He did put on a marvelous show."

Opening up a Gargantuan, Aizen grabbed Gin by the arm before walking toward it. "Clean up the mess, Ulquiorra. Stark, send Grimmjow and Ichigo to Szayel's laboratory."

"Yes, Aizen-sama." Ulquiorra replied obediently.

Stark just sighed.

Ignoring his Primera Espada's gripe, Aizen stepped into the Gargantuan and dragged Gin along behind him.

"When we get back, I'm going to make sure you get what you deserve."

Gin's gasp of horror was quickly muffled by the Gargantuan as it swirled shut.

.

There was something, or someone, rustling nearby. Nnoitra could hear the swishing of robes and the snap of something clicking into place. The Quinto Espada reached out with his reiatsu to detect the identity of the being hovering above him.

"Szayel." Nnoitra rasped; his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. "What are you doin' here?"

"Shh, don't talk." Pink hair came into his line of vision, and worried ocher eyes scrutinized his face. "How do you feel?"

Nnoitra smirked, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms out. "Refreshed, actually. Why, was I knocked out?"

"Sedated, more like," Szayel said and turned away, fiddling with an empty conical flask in his hands. "I injected some analgesic into your system, so any pain you were feeling before this should have disappeared."

Propping himself up on his elbows, Nnoitra surveyed the white laboratory walls around him. He had definitely caught the concern in Szayel's tone, and he decided that he didn't like the additional pressure it was giving him.

"Tell me what's goin' on."

Szayel stiffened, but did not turn around. Nnoitra narrowed his eyes and waited. The awkward silence stretched out between the two Espada.

"Aizen's been planning something." Szayel finally responded, placing the flask on a table before he dropped it out of sheer apprehension.

"When is he not?" Nnoitra prompted.

"But this time it's different! I know it's something bad."

Amused, Nnoitra laughed; it was rare to see Szayel so flustered. "Oh please. Tell me when Aizen doesn't plan _anything_ bad?"

"Gin's up to something too." Szayel ignored his fellow Espada's rhetorical question. "He made me give him two of the maniac vials. What a disgusting guy."

Sliding off the white bed, Nnoitra snaked his arms around the Octavo Espada, leaning his chin on the shorter male's shoulder.

"Maybe you need to calm down." He whispered, breathing in the peachy scent of Szayel's shampoo. "Maniac vials . . . the ones that make the Shinigami kid horny?"

Nodding, Szayel leaned into Nnoitra's touch. "Yeah, and he'll be my first human test subject, together with Grimmjow. According to Aizen's orders of course."

Nnoitra made a face. "What the fuck for? I know he's a pretty sick pervert, but Grimmjow isn't even close to being a sex object."

"You don't understand." Heaving a sigh of exasperation, Szayel slid off his glasses and wiped at the lenses. "Gin let slip that he's having this bet with Aizen, and it doesn't take a village idiot to piece two and two together. This is probably one of Aizen's fancy whims – the Kurosaki boy is innocent. He was brought here because Aizen wanted to have a little fun with Gin."

"So that's all there is to it? Some silly bet Aizen came up with on a whim?" Grasping the Octavo's slender wrists, Nnoitra stopped Szayel from putting on his glasses again. "Don't wear them, you look cute without them."

"Basically." Feeling his barriers crumble, Szayel allowed himself to be cuddled in Nnoitra's embrace. "I just can't think why no one has slept with the boy yet."

Raising an eyebrow, Nnoitra coughed and carefully looked away. So Szayel still didn't know . . .? "Uncanny, ain't it?"

Shrugging, Szayel detached himself from the Quinto Espada. "Well, it doesn't matter. Maybe Gin wanted to use the vials for himself. I don't know. I could ask, but then he'd come on to me again, and it would take all day just to get him off my back."

"He flirts with you?" Nnoitra asked sharply. There was no mistaking the possessiveness in his tone. "What else does he do with you?"

"Oh, the usual." Oblivious to his superior fellow Espada, Szayel slid his glasses on his nose and shrugged on his laboratory coat. "Slight molesting, lots of verbal teasing, suggestive themes whenever he comes into my lab. He seems to have taken a liking to my bottom as of late. And running his fingers down my back; what's so interesting about another man's back? Maybe I should think about creating a repelling potion . . ."

The pink haired Espada failed to notice the jealous glint in Nnoitra's eyes. With a feral snarl, the Quinto leapt for the Octavo, not caring that he'd knocked over a tray of sterilized needles in his wake. Szayel only had a split second's warning before he was thrown onto the nearest bed.

"Ah –!"

.

Ichigo awoke on a soft bed with warm sheets draped over him. He felt sleepy and comfortable, but there was a tickly sensation that was keeping him from going back to sleep. The orange haired teenager glanced down at his arm, then did a double take. There was a thin transparent tube attached to his arm, right below his elbow, stuck in place with a few strips of bandage tape. Light pink liquid was being fed through the tube into his body. Ichigo yanked out the tube with a frown.

Someone must have caught him and drugged him again.

He couldn't really remember much of what happened, but he was pretty sure it had been something big. Had he been involved in a fight? If he had, did he start it? The questions running through his tired brain was making him feel a little woozy. There was a dull ache as he tentatively felt the skin on his arm. He had no idea what the pink liquid was, but he wasn't about to be a fool and stick around to find out. Escape was the first thing on his mind now that he had awoken. He felt his body hurriedly, hoping there weren't anymore of the tubes pulsing chemicals into him. Thankfully, there were none. Ichigo breathed a sigh of relief, and then hunted around for his jacket. He still had pants on, which was a good thing. Running around shirtless in Las Noches wasn't his idea of keeping a low profile, though. Thinking quickly, he grabbed the blanket and slung it around his torso, wrapping the loose ends up in a wild fashion. Once he was satisfied the trailing blanket wouldn't hinder his escape, Ichigo bolted for the only exit of the room, a violently pink door with a large silver '5' stamped on it.

Ichigo stared at the long stretch of corridor before him. There were many doors on both sides. Quickly, he tried turning the knob of the first one, pinning his hopes on finding a way out. There wasn't anything in the room save for a window that looked like it had been cemented shut. Ichigo frowned and shut the door, moving on to the next one. He opened and closed about ten doors before finally stopping and crossing his arms over his chest in disappointment and frustration.

So the doors only led to closed rooms. Only scant few had windows, and most of them were sealed shut – though to keep what in or out Ichigo had no idea – and he didn't see the point in opening each and every door to check. Instead, the teenager opted for running down the long hallway, looking out for anything that could help pinpoint an escape route. It seemed like he was in an enormous mansion with no end to the amount of rooms. It spooked Ichigo to know that some of the rooms, though bare looking, were dark and held something akin to an eerie presence within. He wasn't one to believe in scaring oneself silly about ghosts – he was a Shinigami anyway, what was the point in being afraid – but those rooms set chills down his spine, like there were slithering monsters in there. What bugged Ichigo was that he couldn't see them.

Gritting his teeth, Ichigo kept on running, keeping alert for anyone – or anything – that might jump out and stop him on his journey to find an escape route. He finally came to a corner, and rushed around it without a second's thought. A forehead collided with a hard chest and Ichigo twisted out of the way with a gasp, stumbling backward from the impact. Warm hands held his shoulders, keeping him steady, and the teenager looked up to meet Grimmjow's surprised eyes.

"Ichigo, are you okay?"

Relief flooded his veins. This was someone he could feel safe with!

Cerulean eyes widened as Grimmjow took a few steps back, his arms full of Ichigo as the smaller male wrapped his arms around him with a happy sigh. He ran a hand through the mop of spiky orange hair, which was deceivingly soft to the touch. Grimmjow brought his hand under Ichigo's chin and tilted so he faced him.

"What happened to you?"

"I don't remember." Ichigo murmured against his bare chest, slender fingers gripping Grimmjow's white Espada jacket. "When I woke up, I was alone. And there were all these scary rooms . . ."

"I'll explain everything to you later. But for now, let's check if you're hurt anywhere."

Grimmjow ran his hands over Ichigo's shoulders, noting the stiff, tense muscles above his shoulder blades. He massaged the teen gently, making sure not to hurt him as he quickly checked his body for bruises or open wounds. Surprisingly, Ichigo's body was unscathed. He gave the teen a puzzled look.

"Why are you wearing a blanket?"

Feeling his cheeks flush, Ichigo averted his gaze. "Couldn't find my jacket, so . . ."

Chuckling, the Sexta ran a hand through his orange hair, bringing his hand to cup Ichigo's chin upward. "Did anyone ever tell you you're cute?"

Ichigo blushed some more, turning a rather nice shade of merlot. "S – Shut up."

"We're in Szayel's labyrinth right now. He keeps a lot of specimens around in some of these rooms." Grimmjow smiled at the teen. "We can find him and let him know I'll be taking you back to my quarters. I've got some clean clothes you could borrow."

Ichigo consented and was led down the corridor in the direction of Szayel's spacious laboratory. As they walked, the teenager slipped his hand into Grimmjow's bigger one, enjoying the warm fuzzy feeling his actions generated. He followed after Grimmjow obediently, much like a baby bird would after its mother, right through the steel doors separating Szayel's laboratory from the hallway. There was a soft swoosh as the automatic doors slid shut behind them, and the lights in the dim laboratory flickered on as they headed inward.

"It's empty." Grimmjow muttered, half to himself. "Where would he go?"

There was a wriggly orange and black striped snake specimen in a giant water tank to the left. Unlike most snakes, which were inclined to wriggle horizontally, this one moved vertically, swimming to the top of the tank to prod curiously at the stainless steel covering above its home. Then it swam back downward to the end of the tank before repeating the same thing again. His curiosity piqued, Ichigo stared at it inquisitively.

"Szayel?" Grimmjow called out tentatively, growling something under his breath when he failed to receive a response. "Ugh, let's go look for him. The idiot's probably knee deep in some weird experiment right now."

"Okay." Ichigo agreed simply, sliding closer to Grimmjow as he tore his eyes away from the specimen in the tank.

The Sexta was warm, and Ichigo was suddenly feeling an urge to get closer to him. Maybe the laboratory was cold, the temperature dropped to a certain level to suit the specimens Szayel kept in there, or it could be that Ichigo was just missing some natural contact with another living being. Either way, he snuggled up to Grimmjow's side without a second thought, instantly succumbing to the primordial urges he was feeling. Grimmjow spared him an expressionless glance before leading the way through the laboratory, past the steel and plastic experiment table and the black cushion foldable bed that could be ported around on attachable wheels. The Sexta placed one hand on the handle of a steel door marked '5' and turned it without bothering to knock.

It was bright inside, and a short corridor with only three doors could be seen from their vantage point. There was a set of stairs with plastic covered rungs leading upward from beside one of the doors, where a trapdoor with a hot pink lock was built in. Ichigo scrutinized it, wondering where it would lead to. A secret hideout, maybe?

"Szayel?" Grimmjow called, frowning when his voice echoed out through the hallway. "Jeez, what could he be doing? And why all the doors? It's like he has a thing for keeping stuff behind closed doors. Don't you think, Ichigo?"

Surprised that Grimmjow had aimed a question at him, the teen nodded. "Could be. But then again, I don't really know him very well."

"Neither do I." Grimmjow muttered in reply, knocking on the door to his left before opening it.

He shut the door hastily and leaned against it, looking scandalized. Ichigo blinked innocently up at him.

"Why? What was inside?"

"Some caged animal with fangs." Grimmjow exhaled and jumped a few feet forward when the door behind him vibrated as the unknown being scratched at it from the inside. "Fuck."

"Let's try this door." Ichigo pointed to the door to their right. "Szayel could be in there."

"Highly doubt that." Grimmjow narrowed his eyes, but knocked and opened it anyway. "Oh, it's just some flying bird with -!"

He slammed the door shut and backed away, pulling Ichigo close to his chest in a warm, tight embrace. The teen snuggled closer and breathed in Grimmjow's scent contentedly.

"Didn't know you were afraid of birds."

"I'm not!" the Sexta looked outraged, but Ichigo knew better, judging by the pink tint of blush decorating the tips of the Espada's ears. "I just . . . that thing was covered with eyes."

Ichigo snickered. "I thought you were used to monstrosities like that."

Grimmjow just shuddered in reply.

"Well, all that's left is the last door." Ichigo gestured with his thumb to the door at the very end of the narrow corridor. "Want me to open it this time?"

"It's fine, I'll do it." Grimmjow sighed. "I just really hope he's in there, because I don't know where else he could be. What's with all that crap where he swears he stays cooped up in his lab all the time?"

Ichigo tagged along as Grimmjow sauntered up to the remaining door and laid a hand on the steel handle. He hesitated before twisting it open.

"Ah!"

Both the Sexta's and the teen's eyes widened. Ichigo took a small step back, keeping one hand on Grimmjow's arm as the Espada exchanged a surprised glance with him.

"Oh, oh, nnnnn!"

There it was again. It sounded vaguely like a human voice. But there was a lot of grunting, so they couldn't be too sure. Then there were some slapping sounds, and a low moan accompanied by a few animalistic growls.

"Mmm, more!"

Grimmjow stiffened. He looked at Ichigo, who was equally mystified. In a low tone, he whispered his conclusion. "That was definitely a voice."

"But whose was it?" Ichigo whispered back, honey brown eyes the size of saucers. "It sounded a little like Szayel if you ask me."

"What?" Grimmjow looked like he was going to be sick. "Ugh."

"Shh."

Ichigo placed a finger against the Sexta's lips, enjoying the surprised look the Espada gave him. There was something stirring in his gut, like it was telling him to lean over and claim those naturally pink, slightly chapped lips that belonged to the handsome blue haired man standing before him . . . but now wasn't the time to let his mind slither about in the gutter. Thumbing down the urge to kiss Grimmjow senseless, Ichigo placed a hand over the Sexta's, which was still holding onto the door handle, and pushed downward.

They were greeted with a naked Szayel on his hands and knees, his shoulder length pink locks messed and clinging to the sweat on his face as he gasped and panted breathlessly, gripping the sides of the simple foldable bed he was on. Behind him, Nnoitra balanced on his knees, thrusting into the Octavo as he held him steady by his hips. His long black hair was flipped carelessly over one shoulder, stray strands sticking to the bare skin of his torso as he moved.

"Ah! No, not there!" Szayel suddenly half-screamed, and proceeded to release a series of long drawn out moans.

"Nn," said Nnoitra, thrusting at a faster pace.

None of them seemed to notice they were being intruded upon.

Grimmjow made a funny noise and slowly shut the door with a soft click. Keeping his back straight, the Sexta lead Ichigo straight out of the corridor and through the lab. He didn't stop walking until he reached one of the tanks that held a few round scaly specimens in bright blue water and sank down to the marble floor. He looked vaguely nauseous.

Settling down on his knees before him, Ichigo looked into Grimmjow's blue eyes with raised eyebrows. "Are you alright?"

"F – Fine."

A slow, kind of awkward silence settled between the two. Grimmjow was thinking that maybe going to look for Szayel with Ichigo in tow hadn't been the best idea after all, what with the recent happenings to the young boy, especially with Nnoitra, since they had both been intimate together, but how could he have known Szayel would be doing _that_ in a room right there? It wasn't like he could predict the future, which was something he wished he had yet could see the consequences of having a skill like that. Predicting when Szayel and Nnoitra would have their next romp was going to be hell on his eyes, not to mention the sanity levels of his mind. Anyway, when did he and Nnoitra get together? He definitely hadn't seen that coming. It was something like a slap to the face, or a kick in the gut. He hoped he wasn't about to heave whatever he'd eaten the night before onto the marble floor. Szayel would throw a fit.

Ichigo was thinking that Nnoitra was kind of like a player. But of course, he was probably better off screwing Szayel, who definitely looked more experienced – if you liked the girly type. It was mainly guessing on Ichigo's part, really. The reality of having lost his virginity to Nnoitra hadn't sunk in yet, but Ichigo vowed he would stab that thought in the chest if it ever brought itself up again. He wasn't sure how to face Nnoitra after this, but that was something he didn't really want to be thinking about while he could spend time with Grimmjow like this. Then he frowned as he wondered why he was suddenly holding Grimmjow on such a high pedestal; like he was some gifted celebrity with Ichigo as his personal assistant. The idea amused the teen no end, and he snickered aloud before remembering to cover his mouth with one hand.

Grimmjow was staring at him with a blank look. "You alright?"

"Never been better." Ichigo lied between his teeth.

Normally he wasn't one to lie to people he trusted, but he couldn't just blurt out "I'll be even better if you let me kiss you" to Grimmjow's face and expect to survive, could he? Ichigo smirked behind one hand as he noted the cute expression on the Sexta's face. He looked a little lost and a more than a little annoyed at something.

"Well . . . since Szayel's currently occupied, I think I'll just let you stay in my quarters for the time being." Grimmjow sucked in a breath of air as he considered the awkward effects of his statement. "That is, if you want to stay over."

Ichigo maintained a smile on his face, but on the inside it felt like there were butterflies flitting around leaping frogs in his stomach. What was he getting so excited for? This was Grimmjow, the guy who tried to kill him more than once because he wanted to prove who was stronger. All thoughts of fighting were out of Ichigo's system now. He felt like he was in a different world.

"Lead the way."

.

Grimmjow's quarters were a sorry affair. The second Ichigo stepped through the wide ornately carved door; he was greeted with an upturned sofa, a jungle of books strewn about in various states that shocked the teen, and a rumpled, unmade bed, complete with trailing blankets and a flattened, squashed pillow. There were two pairs of pants hanging from the panther-head lamp by their belt loops, and one black waist sash tied around one of the window pillars.

The Sexta had the decency to blush, if only a little. "Sorry, I don't really have the time to clean up."

"Busy schedule?" Ichigo felt himself ask out of politeness.

"Yeah, since you've arrived here." Grimmjow muttered under his breath, but Ichigo heard it all the same.

"Well, then." Ichigo said with a bright smile. "Why don't you let me clean up? I won't take no for an answer."

Half an hour later found Ichigo with a neatly stacked pile of books on the white and gray bookshelf, clean and dirty laundry separated accordingly, and a nicely made bed with fluffed pillows and a carefully plumped mattress. He'd hung Grimmjow's Espada jackets and pants together on some hangers, and had dutifully slid the waist sashes through the loopholes of his pants so he could just tug them on whenever. Grimmjow poked his head out from behind the bathroom door, into which he had been shoved into to keep out of Ichigo's way while the Spartan cleaning commenced.

"Love what you did with the place." Grimmjow smirked at Ichigo's pleased-as-pie expression. "You didn't have to, though."

The orange haired teen cocked his head to the side and made a soft clucking noise, the kind he usually made while doing a complex arithmetic question. Grimmjow looked hot; Ichigo liked the way his hair mussed up from the back and partly on his side – that one cute little curl – from where he could totally tell Grimmjow had been leaning against the bathroom wall while waiting. He had an exotic look, what with the teal markings around his eyes – which were surprisingly warm and catlike whenever directed at Ichigo – and the sexy way his mouth quirked up on one end when he gave that knowing smirk.

"Grimmjow, I want to . . ."

"Hmm?"

Ichigo crossed the room in three strides, willing his heartbeat to slow down and match the pace of his mind, which was currently in a trance-like daze. He felt like he was floating. There was the need to touch – so he reached out with both hands and placed them on Grimmjow's hard chest, sliding his hands upward in a slow motion. He could feel the Sexta's muscles tense at his shoulders, so he applied a gentle pressure, making sure to massage him at the right spots – especially near to the erogenous zones, which was something he'd read in a magazine Keigo had snuck into school between two textbooks and some Chemistry notes.

Oh, there was chemistry alright. Ichigo could feel an excited tingling spreading through his body in his veins, like his blood was on fire. His slender fingers massaged small circles gently up Grimmjow's neck, slowly making his way into Grimmjow's hair, where he threaded his fingers through the lovely blue locks and . . .

Oh, wow.

Then he was kissing Grimmjow, soft lips meeting slightly chapped ones, and it got easier from there onwards because Grimmjow's lips were parted slightly – either from the shock of being at such close proximity with Ichigo, or maybe because he wanted this as much as Ichigo did: badly – so he slid his tongue in, slipping over and under Grimmjow's while he used his teeth to nibble at the Sexta's lower lip. The kiss felt so good; mainly because Grimmjow was a pretty experienced kisser, and the floating feeling he was having just accelerated. Now he felt like he was in heaven. But it still wasn't enough – yet.

"Can we do it?"

Grimmjow looked at him, a flicker of bafflement crossing his handsome features. "Do what?"

In reply, Ichigo trailed one hand down from Grimmjow hair to his back, tracing the lines and ridges of his spinal cord to the front of his pants. He wasn't hard, but there was definitely a bulge of something Ichigo very much wanted to see. And maybe suck, but if he was good enough he'd get that treat soon.

"This." Ichigo stroked and nudged Grimmjow through his pants. "I want to do it."

"We really shouldn't." Grimmjow managed to get that sentence out before Ichigo's lips were on his again, tongue teasing his own around in circles, preventing him from saying anything more. "Mmph."

Then the black waist sash that held his pants in place – not that it did a very good job anyway, since the pants had a zipper – slid to the floor, and his pants soon followed suit, as did his jacket. Ichigo was in the middle of wriggling out of his blanket, his own pants already discarded, thrown in a haphazard fashion over his shoulder. Grimmjow was pushed onto the bed, where he sat with an unceremonious plop; cerulean eyes boring into Ichigo's hungry honey brown ones as he silently asked the question: "Are you for real?"

"I really, really want to do it with you." Ichigo confirmed his suspicions with a cute pout, straddling his hips and chuckling lightly when the bedsprings creaked under his added weight. "Will you let me?"

Grimmjow swallowed. "But you're confused. You're under some drug influence . . ."

"Don't care." Ichigo's hands were already wrapped around their cocks, pumping and squeezing gently as he slid his fingers around their hard lengths, gaining a good rhythm. "I didn't feel this way with Nnoitra."

The Sexta froze. One hand pushed Ichigo gently off his lap. "How many times did you do it with him?"

Ichigo slid to the floor, keeping his eyes fixated on Grimmjow's thick, pink-tipped cock standing half-erect amidst darker blue pubes, which was stiff and needed his tongue to lick the hardness away.

"Only once." The teen replied, shifting his gaze to meet the Espada's eyes. "But I didn't want him as much as I want you."

Which was true. He'd had common sense and rational thinking back then when he was first fucked by Nnoitra. Right now, all that was left in his brain were urges like want and desire and hunger for the rugged, sexy looking blue haired man before him, sitting nonchalantly on the bed as if he'd done this a million times before.

On the contrary, Grimmjow's mind was awhirl with mixed emotions and conflicting thoughts. He was torn between succumbing to his current primordial needs and giving the wanton boy what he wanted – a good, hard fuck and possibly more, then some cuddling, not because he was growing soft, but because he was sure the boy needed it and _god_, that orange hair was screaming at his hands to run through them – as well as the words Barragan had told him the other day when he was having a meltdown in the middle of the desert. He weighed it out on a simple scale.

Fucking Ichigo: good for his stifled sexual needs, bad for the teenager and his own standing with Aizen.

Not fucking Ichigo: horrible, cruel, most intolerable on his screaming, raring-to-go sexual tension, not-so-good for the teenager and golden with Aizen.

"I'm going crazy." Grimmjow muttered, not taking his eyes of Ichigo.

"Then fuck me." Ichigo invited as he ran his hands up the insides of Grimmjow's thighs, grabbing his cock without warning and practically devouring the head of his cock with his warm mouth.

The effect was instantaneous. Grimmjow stiffened and immediately gripped Ichigo by the head, which had very, very soft hair and had a lovely mouth attached to it. The Sexta shoved the 'not fucking Ichigo' option right out of his mind and gave it a flying kick toward the desert. Why had he even allowed his mind to come up with something as stupid as that when he could have Ichigo sucking his throbbing dick like this?

Ichigo hummed along the length of his cock, making Grimmjow grunt and tighten his grip in his hair. He pulled away, grinning when the Sexta looked at him with a dazed expression.

"Come once for me, Grimmjow."

Before the Espada had time for yay or nay, Ichigo was swallowing his cock again, hollowing out his cheeks for added effect. Grimmjow sucked in a breath of much needed air – he hadn't realized he'd been holding it in for so long – and panted as Ichigo worked his mouth magic not very expertly, but in a still amazing enough manner to make Grimmjow feel good. And then the teen was deep throating him right up to the hilt, the tip of his nose tickling the longer hairs of his pubes as he worked at a slower pace in order not to gag. His actions were sending Grimmjow way out into the universe, spinning alongside a meteor before smashing through a couple asteroids.

"Mmm." Ichigo hummed a little louder this time, making sure Grimmjow could feel the vibrations right up to the roots of the hair on top of his head, and massaged his balls in a gentle circular motion.

With a grunt, Grimmjow made a star go supernova as he came, releasing his come directly into Ichigo's talented mouth with a bang. He rubbed his elbow from where he'd accidentally hit it on the wall as he jerked, but the dull ache was soon forgotten when Ichigo dropped his dripping cock, using both hands to scoop the come up into his mouth, where his tongue greedily lapped up the fluid like it was the only thing he needed to survive.

"God." Grimmjow breathed, running his hands through Ichigo's hair, savoring the soft feel of it. "You're so sexy."

"Let's get you up again."

"Huh?"

Ichigo's hands were working at his cock once more, massaging, stroking and gentle squeezing the area near his tip. Grimmjow chewed his lower lip and forced himself not to buck into Ichigo's hands like an impatient child. The teen gave up quickly, standing up immediately only to stagger back a few steps as he lost balance. Grimmjow caught him by the waist, bringing him closer.

"Whoa, watch yourself."

A hungry, lust-filled gaze caught his attention. "Fuck me already; I want you so bad . . ."

Oh.

Who was supposed to be the impatient one here?

Grimmjow hid a smirk as he guided Ichigo to straddle his lap once more, attacking his nipples – gently, because he knew this was the boy's first time with his teeth – and nipping at the sensitive skin around his chest.

"Ah!"

Ichigo threw his arms around his neck when he ran his tongue under his left nipple, using his teeth to tease the pert bud into his mouth before giving him a sharp nip. Grimmjow was hard once more, which was only natural thanks to the wriggling, moaning sex-on-legs on top of him.

"More Grimmjow, I want . . ."

"You want it now?"

More moans, some panting, and a deep breath of air.

"Yes, now!"

He slid his fingers in between the boy's cheeks, smirking into the skin around Ichigo's navel as he noted that his hole was already slick with come. He wouldn't need much preparation, then. Still, it was a good idea to continue being gentle. Grimmjow tested the waters by sliding one finger in, prodding and probing the boy's soft insides. Ichigo moaned and wriggled his hips, pushing with a downward motion in a silent cry for more. Grimmjow inserted another finger, and another, sliding in slowly until his knuckles met his tight, wet hole. As he bent his fingers this way and that, he felt a light bump inside as he brushed one of his fingers against it. Ichigo jerked and yelped. His cock twitched as he buried his face in Grimmjow's hair.

"Oh." Ichigo panted breathlessly. "Hurry, Grimmjow."

"Ready for the real thing?"

Ichigo wriggled his hips again. Grimmjow took that as a yes and removed his fingers, promptly replacing it with the head of his cock. Without waiting for the usual slow process, Ichigo plunged downward onto Grimmjow, releasing a loud moan and several breathless gasps as a light mixture of pain and pleasure rolled over him. Grimmjow himself was taken by surprise.

"S – Shit, Ichigo, don't do that to yourself."

"Mmm," replied the teen, too busy swiveling his hips as he searched for that tender spot inside him that was so hard to reach. "Oh, oh, move Grimmjow!"

Grimmjow grunted and thrusted into Ichigo, pulling out before pounding into him again. He was trying to go at a slower, much more sedate pace, but Ichigo was so impatient and was clenching his muscles every few seconds it was becoming like a contest to see who would come first.

"Don't . . . just relax . . ."

"I don't . . . oh! There!"

There were more moans, which Grimmjow thought was hella sexy, especially when Ichigo would turn his gorgeous face toward him with his mouth open, panting, hands on his shoulders and neck.

"Ah! Harder!"

Grimmjow complied; just what he was about to suggest anyway. Every upward thrust met Ichigo's downward push in perfect tandem, gaining a good, fast rhythm as Grimmjow repeatedly hit his sweet spot. He felt like he was on fire.

"Oh! Mmm!" Ichigo yelped as he grabbed Grimmjow by the neck, pulling his face closer so their mouths could meet in a clumsy, rough kiss.

Teeth knocked against teeth, and lips were sucked and nibbled after tongues swirled and slicked over each other like writhing snakes. Grimmjow felt the heat pooling in his stomach fill him up like he was about to explode. He glanced up at Ichigo, who was bouncing in his lap with his eyes half-shut, looking erotic and insanely sexy and . . .

The pressure was building up and brimming over its limit, causing Grimmjow to buck his hips in a few more desperate, quick thrusts, hitting Ichigo's prostrate with those moves.

Ichigo came first, spilling his seed over his chest and abdomen, splashing Grimmjow's cheek and neck a little. Grimmjow released soon after inside him due to Ichigo's tightly clenched ring of muscles, filling up his hole and making his fluid dribble out onto the bed.

"So good."

Grimmjow agreed soundlessly, pulling Ichigo back onto the mattress with him as he claimed his lips for another kiss.

"I wanna do it again."

.

He'd lost count of how long he'd been living with Grimmjow. Days? Could be months. Years? Nah, he would've noticed for sure. Time passed slower in Hueco Mundo, anyway. No one seemed to mind, least of all Aizen. There were a few jibes directed at Grimmjow like: "Got yourself a new toy?" or "Having fun, aren't you? Don't get too carried away with your new roommate." Otherwise, nothing much going on. Ichigo felt a little weird, living with a guy who wasn't really his friend – yet more than a friend due to his situation, but then again . . . beggars couldn't be choosers.

Today was sunny, which was a welcome change from the drab, chilly mornings that Aizen had created artificially to test his control on the weather. Apparently Gin had done something to make him change his mind, which was a good thing in Ichigo's books. Of course, Szayel had been the one who told Nnoitra, who had then told Ulquiorra, who was overheard by Stark and Halibel, and the news flowed along the grapevine until Stark told Grimmjow, who then told Ichigo after several rounds of amazing sex. And what incredible, mind blowing sex it had been. His ears were still ringing with the muffled, stifled grunts from Grimmjow and his own panting breath mingled with the 'schlick, schlick' sounds of Grimmjow's cock sliding in and out of his . . .

Mmm.

Best not think about that.

Ichigo ran his tongue over the front of his top row teeth, making a disgruntled face when he realized he needed to brush his teeth. But he didn't want to. There was that irritating lazy feeling spiking up inside him, making him lethargic and listless.

All the Espada had left, including Grimmjow. He knew they were out on different missions from Aizen, and the place felt eerily quiet. Left to his own devices, Ichigo floated out of Grimmjow's quarters, moving wraith like through the wide expanse of ornate marble columns and closed doors. His bare feet made no sound on the cool marble floor. He wondered when the Espada would get back. Actually, what he was really looking forward to was Grimmjow coming back after a mission, looking annoyed and moody. Ichigo knew he could definitely change Grimmjow's moods with just a little bit of seduction. Oh yes. He knew just how to get the Sexta wrapped around his finger, lapping from his palm like a big, untamed panther meekly begging for more.

The only difference was that Grimmjow was never meek. Far from it; the Sexta was more feral and bold, always sure of what he wanted. And what he usually wanted, he made sure to get. Ichigo decided he very much liked him that way, anyhow.

After wandering around for a good forty minutes, Ichigo was struck with a sudden brainwave on something else better to do than just walking about aimlessly like a lost cause. He turned and made his way back to Grimmjow's quarters, which were quickly becoming his own as well.

Shutting the onyx marble door behind him with a soundless click, Ichigo wandered over to the unmade bed. The blankets were tossed and kicked and twisted, trailing down to the floor. The rumpled bed sheets looked like someone had rolled around on it for a good two hours. Ichigo sat on the mattress, sliding face down into the comfortable sheets. It smelled of mint and Grimmjow, the now familiar scent filling his nostrils as he inhaled in deeply. There it was again, that tingling feeling in his nether regions.

Clothes were suddenly obstructing pieces of material. Ichigo tugged at his white jacket, similar to the Espada garb, and undid the black waist sash Grimmjow had painstakingly tied for him before leaving for his mission. He was now naked in the room he shared with the Sexta. A small, excited smile sculpted his lips. Then he frowned. Something was amiss. Casting around for something suitable, Ichigo set eyes on an off-white shirt with a gray collar. It was Grimmjow's. Ichigo smirked as he bent to retrieve it from where it was poking out under the bed. The fabric was soft, most likely worn down with wear and tear. It looked like it had been through a dozen battles and still managed to survive. The teenager wondered why Grimmjow wouldn't just have it sent to the incinerator, but then again, it was just like the Sexta not to throw anything he was fond of away.

Bringing the soft fabric up to his face, Ichigo breathed in. Immediately, the scent of Grimmjow invaded his senses, sending thrills up and down his spine. He could imagine Grimmjow's hands on his arms, trailing up and down; the image sent goosebumps all over his skin. Grimmjow's hands shifted to his chest, rubbing slowly, almost teasingly at his nipples before tracing his body shape, all the way down to his hips, where his hands moved forward to tickle his hair . . .

"Oh." Ichigo said breathlessly.

Sometimes his imagination was amazing. This was one of the moments he loved best. He slid his hands up and down his thighs, feeling his cock twitch as he imagined Grimmjow's hands doing the exact same thing to him. Using his nails, Ichigo scraped a long, slow line gently at the skin on his inner thighs, shuddering as he felt his cock give another twitch. This wasn't nearly enough, something was still missing. But his nipples were stiff, which was a good sign.

What would Grimmjow do? Ichigo chewed on his lower lip as he wondered. The Sexta loved to tease, so Ichigo knew he wouldn't just give him what he wanted right away. There would be a lot more teasing foreplay until Ichigo begged for mercy.

"Mmm."

Ichigo spread his legs wider, rubbing his bare legs against the soft, rumpled sheets and blankets, feeling the soft blend of materials against his skin. Sliding one hand down from his collarbone to his nipples, he pinched and tugged at them tentatively, pouting when he didn't feel any of the tingling feelings he had felt when Grimmjow had done the same thing to him the night before. Oh, those big, warm hands had felt so good on his skin, and the heat pooling in the lower part of his stomach had even made his vision a little blurry. And Grimmjow's mouth licking the shell of his ear – oh, that had been heaven. It seemed like the Espada knew exactly where all of Ichigo's erogenous spots were – it was amazing. It had been incredible, too. Ichigo peeked down at his throbbing member to find that he was already fully erect. To get turned on by such memories was strangely erotic.

He couldn't take it anymore!

Sliding his hands down to his hot, stiff cock, Ichigo fondled himself, allowing his imagination to run as wild and free as it wished while he jerked himself off. The bedsprings creaked quietly along with his rhythm, patiently taking his weight as he leaned forward and arched his back, rubbing his balls on the sheets of the mattress beneath him. The place was warm where he had been sitting, and he used that to fuel his imagination of Grimmjow's hands stroking his swollen, reddish sacs with those long fingers he so loved sticking into Ichigo's mouth, especially when they were slick with come – Ichigo's own, and sometimes Grimmjow's.

With a soft cry, Ichigo came explosively, panting breathlessly as he watched his come dribble down his fingers and onto the mattress as well as the floor in a sort of trance. He felt like he was in a blissful daze; his orgasm had been mind blowing.

"Oh, that was so good."

The teen tilted his head to the angel on his shoulder and bit his lower lip as he contemplated what Grimmjow would do next.

"Oh, that's right."

His fingers were practically dripping with come.

Ichigo angled his head and proceeded to clean his hands, sucking and licking his fingers as his tongue greedily lapped up his thick whitish fluid. Grimmjow would make him clean it all up and then thrust into him to make him release some more, just to watch him do the same sexy actions again so they could have more sex.

It felt great.

Another tingly feeling was working its way up and down Ichigo's spine. Just once wasn't enough! The teen pouted and let out a cute sigh as he wondered what Grimmjow was doing at the moment. Was he hard at work, showing the Shinigami who was boss? When would he come home? And when he did get back, would he be covered with sweat and a little bit of blood – not his, of course, it had to be some unfortunate soul's – and look all sexy with his hair mussed up and wearing that erotic, smug smirk on his handsome face?

The orange haired teen sighed as he looked down. He was hard again. Time to imagine a different setting . . . like maybe having Grimmjow fuck him outdoors in his Ressureccion form, using his tail to tie Ichigo's wrists together so he could have his way with him. That hungry, desiring look in his cerulean eyes would turn Ichigo's knees to jelly and he would definitely sag against the Espada with a sexy expression on his face – oh, but outdoors? Ichigo squirmed as he visualized the sand getting stuck on his skin, mingling with his sweat and making it totally uncomfortable. Not to mention there would be insects and little desert animals wandering around, too. Ichigo made a face, disgusted.

Oh well, he'd just have to settle for a different sex position on the bed, then. Like having Grimmjow take him from the back with his arms tied up, or thrusting into him from below while Ichigo bounced in his lap.

Now he was even harder than before.

Good. That meant he was healthy. More images came into his mind, and Ichigo smirked as he reached down to stroke himself.

After masturbating several times, Ichigo spread both legs and pressed his knuckles to the soft, sensitive bundle of nerves just under the pinkish skin between his still slightly swollen balls and delicate puckered hole. The feeling was amazing. As he wiggled and nudged his hand here and there, he finally found the sweet spot he was searching for – and promptly released a breathless moan, half-shouting, half-screaming Grimmjow's name. His back arched as he allowed the waves of his orgasm to wash over him, enjoying it while it lasted. His come shot out from the tip of his cock, splattering his face and abdomen, dribbling down his chest to decorate the mattress. As he was slowly brought back to the present time from his orgasmic high, Ichigo sank back bonelessly into the mattress, never having felt so blissful in his entire life.

Alright, scratch that. He'd felt like he was in heaven since Grimmjow fucked him into orgasmic oblivion, but this was second best to _that_.

It didn't take him long to flick his amber, lust-filled gaze to the open doorway and notice Grimmjow standing there. When had he come in? Ichigo hadn't even heard the door open. The Sexta looked rugged and sexy with his eyes wide, kissable lips parted slightly as he took in the insanely arousing sight before him. He wasn't sweating very much, nor was he covered in some bad guy's blood, but he still looked hot; no doubt about that. The sunlight filtering through the pillared windows were illuminating his handsome face and toned abdomen, and those muscles that peeked through his jacket?

_Oh, mmm. _Ichigo could feel himself growing hard again.

Smirking, Ichigo was filled with newfound energy from a naughty idea that popped up in his mind. Arching his back upwards again, he fondled his own nipples into hardened, stiff nubs. Normally, he wouldn't be aroused by toying with his own nipples, but the idea of being watched by Grimmjow was turning him on.

"Uhn." Ichigo moaned breathlessly, exaggerating a little as he bit his lower lip and spread his legs in what he hoped would be a seductive pose.

Grimmjow swallowed, suddenly feeling his mouth run dry.

"Come here, you." When the Espada looked frozen to the spot, the teen watched the Sexta through half-lidded eyes and practically purred. "You gonna make me wait, Grimmjow?"

Grimmjow licked his lips and swung the door shut without taking his eyes off the wanton teen writhing on his bed.

"Not anymore."

.

**Well, lovelies? Thoughts please.**


End file.
